Tailor-Made  Man 


RY  JAMES  SMITH 


FRENCH  STANDARD  UBRARY  EDITION 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  St.,  New  York 


MRS.  PARTRIDGE  PRESENTS 

Comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Mary  Kennedy  and  Euth  Haw. 
thorne.  6  males,  6  females.  Modern  costumes.  2  interiors 
Plays  2%  hours. 

The  characters,  scenes  and  situations  are  thoroughly  up-to- 
date  in  this  altogether  delightful  American  comedy.  The  heroin* 
IB  a  woman  of  tremendous  energy,  who  manages  a  business — a* 
•he  manages  everything — with  great  success,  and  at  home  pre- 
sides over  the  destinies  of  a  growing  son  and  daughter.  He* 
Struggle  to  give  the  children  the  opportunities  she  herself  had 
missed,  and  the  children's  ultimate  revolt  against  her  well-meant 
management — that  is  the  basis  of  the  plot.  The  son  who  is  cast 
for  the  part  of  artist  and  the  daughter  -who  is  to  go  on  the  stag* 
offer  numerous  opportunities  for  the  development  of  the  comio 
possibilities  in  the  theme. 

The  play  is  one  of  the  most  delightful,  yet  thought-provoking 
American  comedies  of  recent  years,  and  is  warmly  recommended 
to  »U  amateur  groups.  (Royalty  on  application.)  Price,  75  Cents, 


IN  THE   NEXT  ROOM 

Melodrama  in  3  acts.  By  Eleanor  Eobson  and  Harriet 
Ford.  8  males,  3  females.  2  interiors.  Modern  costumes. 
Plays  2%  hours. 

"Philip  Vantine  has  bought  a  rare  copy  of  an  original  Bonle 
•abinet  and  ordered  it  shipped  to  his  New  York  home  from  Paris. 
When  it  arrives  it  is  found  to  be  the  original  itself,  the  pos- 
session of  which  is  desired  by  many  strange  people.  Before  the 
mystery  concerned  with  the  cabinet's  shipment  can  be  cleared 
np,  two  persons  meet  mystericr.s  death  fooling  with  it  and  the 
happiness  of  many  otherwise  happy  actors  is  threatened"  (Burns 
Mantle).  A  first-rate  mystery  play,  comprising  all  the  elements 
«f  suspense,  curiosity,  comedy  and  drama.  "In  the  Next  Boom" 
!•  quite  easy  to  stn-ge.  It  can  be  unreservedly  recommended  to 
Uffe  «chools  Red  colleges,  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
(&•-•  .New  Dmcriprive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Requwt 


A  Tailor-Made  Man 


A  COMEDY  IN  FOUR  ACTS 


BY 


HARRY  JAMES  SMITH 


COPYRIGHT,  1917,  BY  HARRY  JAMES  SMITH 

COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY  EDITH  SMITH,  ADMINISTRATRIX 
OF  ESTATE  OF  HARRY  JAMES  SMITH 


AH  rights  reserved 


CAUTION. — Amateurs  and  Professionals  are  hereby  warned  that 
"A  TAILOR  MADE  MAN,"  being  fully  protected  under  the 
copyright  laws  of  the  United  States,  is  subject  to  Royalty,  and 
anyone  presenting  the  play  without  the  consent  of  the  owners  or 
their  authorized  agents  will  be  liable  to  the  penaUies  by  law 
provided.  Application  for  the  amateur  acting  rights  must  be 
made  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th,  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Application  for  the  professional  acting  rights  must  be  made  to 
Alice  Kauser,  1402  Broadway,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


New  York : 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Publisher 
25  West  45th  Street 


London : 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd. 

26  Southampton  Street 

Strand 


ty  o*  thus  „  i. 

Lot  AngButt  Ua;c« 

SAMUEL  FliEHCH 

,  8n  W«ST  7TH 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of 
this  book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first 
having  been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right 
or  license  to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play 
publicly  or  in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance,  representation,  produc- 
tion, recitation,  or  public  reading,  or  radio  broadcasting 
may  be  given  except  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York. 

This  play  may  be  presented  by  amateurs  upon  payment 
of  a  royalty  of  Twenty-Five  Dollars  for  each  perform- 
ance, payable  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th  Street, 
New  York,  one  week  before  the  date  when  the  play  is 
given. 

Whenever  the  play  is  produced  the  following  notice  must 
appear  on  all  programs,  printing  and  advertising  for  the 
play:  "Produced  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French  of  New  York." 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalty  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringement  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows. 

"SECTION  4966: — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  rep- 
resenting any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which 
copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his 
heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  thereof,  such 
damages,  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less 
than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for 
every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear 
to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation 
be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be 
guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  shall  be  im- 
prisoned for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."— rU.  S. 
Revised  Statutes :  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  play-bill  of  the  first 

performance  of  "A  Tailor-Made  Man,"  at  the 

Cohan  &  Harris  Theatre,  New  York  City, 

August  27,  1917. 

COHAN    &    HARRIS    PRESENT 

A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

WITH 

GRANT  MITCHELL 
A  NEW  COMEDY  IN  FOUR  ACT&, 

BY 

HARRY  JAMES  SMITH 

Based  on  "The  Well-Fitting  Dress-Coat,"  by 
Gabriel  Dregley 

Staged  by  Sam  Forrest 

(Characters  in  the  Order  of  Their  First  Appear- 
ance) 

MR.  HUBER  .......................  Gus  Weinberg 

MR.  ROWLANDS  ....................  L.  E.  Conness 

PETER  .........................  Barlowe  Borland 

DR.  GUSTAVUS  SONNTAG  ........  Theodore  Friebus 

jjpgarr  o»  i  thie  pL*ty  p%   •'"••»  *>  u* 
Loe  Aiiipiiai  umce 

SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Bl-DO..    «H    W««T    7TH 


2114941 


4  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

TANYA  HUBER Helen  MacKellar 

JOHN  PAUL  BART Grant  Mitchell 

POMEROY Rowland  Buckstone 

MRS.  STANLAW Mina  Gale  Haynes 

MR.  STANLAW Harry  Harwood 

CORINNE  STANLAW Mona  Kingsley 

DOROTHY   Adrienne  Bonnelli 

BOBBY  WESTLAKE   Lloyd  Carpenter 

MR.  FLEMING John  Wall 

MR.  CRANE John  Maccabee 

MR.   CARROLL Douglas  Fame 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS Josephine  Deffry 

MR.  FITZMORRIS Phil  Hardy 

WHEATING Frank  G.  Harley 

MRS.  KITTIE  DUPUY Lotta  Linthicum 

BESSIE  DUPUY Nancy  Power 

MR.  JELLICOTT A.  P.  Kaye 

ABRAHAM  NATHAN Frank  Burbeck 

Miss  SHAYNE Gladys  Gilbert 

MR.  GRAYSON Lawrence  White 

MR.  WHITCOMBE Howard  Wall 

MR.  RUSSELL  1  f      John  A.  Boone 

MR.  CAIN        f-  Labor  delegates  -s          J.  H.  Greene 
MR.  FLYNN    J  (  Wm.  C.  Hodges 


TIME:     1916.     PLACE:     New  York  City. 

ACT  I.  The  Tailoring  Establishment  of  Mr. 
Huber. 

ACT  II.  Reception  Room  at  the  Stanlaws,  the 
same  evening. 

ACT  III.  The  offices  of  the  American  Oceanic 
Shipbuilding  Corporation,  nine 
months  later. 

ACT  IV.  Same  as  Act  I.  The  morning  of  the 
following  day. 


There  was  never  a  better  illustration  of  the  famil- 
iar saying  that  plays  are  not  written, — they  are  re- 
written,—than  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN,  produced 
in  1917  by  Cohan  &  Harris. 

The  first  writing,  a  definite  adaptation  of  the 
Hungarian  original,  was  done  during  the  winter  of 
1915  and  1916.  The  following  summer  it  was  re- 
written with  much  greater  freedom,  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing winter,  after  the  road  production,  when  Grant 
Mitchell  made  his  marvellous  characterization  of 
John  Paul  Bart,  it  was  rewritten  again,  this  time 
with  the  dynamic  help  of  George  M.  Cohan. 

After  America  entered  the  war  some  important 
additions  were  made,  notably  the  long  speech  in  the 
Third  Act  regarding  the  need  of  ships.  And  even 
after  my  brother  had  left  New  York  the  following 
winter  on  the  trip  that  resulted  in  his  death,  one 
very  amusing  line  was  added. 

That  co-operation  should  be  so  essential  a  part  of 
play-writing  and  play  producing  was  a  great  satis- 
faction to  my  brother.  In  one  of  the  last  letters  that 
he  wrote,  he  said : 

"An  architect  must  depend  on  the  co-operation  of 
a  hundred  workers  in  different  capacities — brick- 
layers, steamfitters,  glaziers.  So  must  a  playwright. 
The  electrician,  the  wardrobe  woman  must  pull  with 
the  play  just  as  loyally  as  the  star  and  the  manage- 
ment if  you  hope  to  put  the  thing  across.  A  success 
is  a  triumph  of  co-operation,  and  the  author  ought 
to  be  very  humble  about  it — proud  of  them,  not  of 
himself." 

EDITH  SMITH. 


CHARACTERS  OF  THE  PLAY 

JOHN  PAUL  BART "The  Tailor-Made  Man" 

MR.  HUBER The  Tailor 

TANYA  HUBER His  Daughter 

PETER  McCoNKiE His  First  Assistant 

DR.  SONNTAG A  Scholar 

MR.  ROWLANDS A  Newspaper  Man 

MR.  JELLICOT A  Yachtsman 

POMEROY His  Valet 

MR.   STANLAW A   Millionaire 

MRS.  STANLAW His  Aristocratic  Wife 

CORINNE  Their  Daughter 

WHEATING Their  Butler 

MR.  FITZMORRIS         ~1 
MRS.  FITZMORRIS 

;Brs;0rTLAKE  \ *-w 

MR.  CRANE 

MR.  FLEMMING          J 

MRS.  KITTIE  DUPUY A  Divorcee 

BESSIE Her  Daughter 

MR.  NATHAN A  Financier 

MR.  GRAYSON His  Secretary 

Miss  SHAYNE A  Stenographer 

MR.  WHITCOMBE A  Business  Man 

MR.  RUSSELL  | 

MR.  FLYNNE  >• Labor  Delegates 

MR.  CAIN      J 

GUESTS  AT  THE  STANLAWS'  RECEPTION 


A  Tailor-Made  Man 


ACT  I 

SCENE  :  MR.  HUBER'S  Tailoring  Establishment.  A 
smart  little  Tailor  Shop,  just  off  Fifth  Avenue. 
The  street  entrance,  Centre,  is  flanked  by  show- 
windows,  with  A.  HUBER,  TAILOR,  in  gilt 
letters  reversed.  The  work-room  is  Right,  and 
Lower  Left  is  a  doorway,  closed  with  portieres, 
that  leads  by  a  stairway  to  MR.  HUBER'S  apart- 
ments. The  show-case  is  against  the  Left  wall, 
above  the  exit.  In  front  of  each  window  is  a 
long  table  on  which  are  bales  of  cloth,  some 
partly  unrolled.  Dummies,  dressed  to  display 
the  latest  styles,  stand  in  the  windows,  and  flank 
the  street  entrance,  which  is  a  couple  of  steps 
below  the  street  level.  In  the  Upper  Right- 
hand  corner  stands  the  safe,  marked  A. 
HUBER,  and  in  front  of  that  and  extending 
well  forward,  is  a  long  oblong  work-table  on 
which  are  ironing  boards,  a  sponge,  an  electric 
flatiron,  etc.  There  is  a  pile  of  partially  made 
garments  lying  on  the  table,  and  others  are  hang- 
ing from  frames  and  hooks.  Style  sheets  are 
pinned  here  and  there  on  the  walls,  and  add  to 
the  prosperous  appearance.  A  serviceable  of- 
fice-desk is  Left  of  the  street  entrance,  and  a 
large  cheval  glass  is  Left  Front. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  ROWLANDS,  an  ener- 
9 


io  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

getic,  brainy  and  likable  newspaper  man,  who 
fairly  radiates  optimism  and  success,  is  stand- 
ing in  his  shirt-sleeves  on  the  fitting-stand,  Cen- 
tre, being  measured  by  HUBER.  MR.  HUBER 
lives  in  America,  but  he  retains  the  manners  and 
creed  of  the  old  world.  He  is  irritable,  but  at 
heart  very  true  and  kind.  At  the  desk,  taking 
down  the  measurements  at  HUBER'S  dictation, 
sits  PETER  McCoNKiE,  the  first  assistant  in  the 
shop.  He  is  an  uncouth,  thrifty  and  eccentric 
Scotchman;  hard-working,  bull  headed,  and  self- 
satisfied.  Both  he  and  HUBER  are  in  their  shirt 
sleeves,  and  wear  small  black  aprons. 

HUBER.  (Taking  measurement  of  leg)  Thirty- 
two  and  a  half. 

PETER.     and  a  half. 

HUBER.  (Measuring  around  the  waist)  And  I 
must  say,  Mr.  Rowlands,  it  seems  a  terrible  pity  that 
such  an  educated  man  like  Dr.  Sonntag  can't  find 
one  single  publisher  to  publish  his  book  for  him. 
Why,  sir,  the  thing  is  a  masterpiece.  (To  PETERJ 
Thirty-eight. 

PETER.     Thirty-eight. 

ROWLANDS.  I  suppose  you've  read  every  word 
of  it? 

HUBER.  (Measuring  the  hips)  Well,  no,  Mr. 
Rowlands,  not  if  you  put  it  that  way.  I'm  much 
too  busy  a  man  to  be  reading  books.  The  little  shop 
takes  up  all  my  time,  and  my  daughter's,  too.  She 
keeps  the  accounts.  (To  PETER,)  Forty-two. 

PETER.     Forty-two. 

(  HUBER  goes  to  the  desk,  and  PETER,  with  a  grin, 
opens  a  drawer,  and  takes  out  a  bulky  manu- 
script which  he  hands  him.) 

HUBER.     Dr.  Sonntag  has  been  five  whole  years 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  if 

writing  this,  and  Just  the  manuscript  alone.  Here  it 
is,  sir.  Look  at  it.  Lift  it.  (Putting  it  in  ROW- 
LANDS' hands)  Pounds! 

ROWLANDS.  (Amused,  as  he  weighs  the  book  in 
his  hands)  Five  years  to  write  it  ?  That's  a  pound 
a  year,  minimum  estimate. 

HUBER.  And  the  hardest  part  of  it  all  is,  him 
and  my  daughter  was  expecting  to  get  married  on 
the  proceeds.  You  know  what  young  folks  are — 
they  want  to  get  hitched  up.  (Measuring  knee.) 

ROWLANDS.  (Amused)  Sounds  like  a  good  old- 
fashioned  love  match. 

HUBER.  Oh,  yes,  indeed,  sir,  I  saw  to  the  whole 
thing  myself.  (To  PETER,)  Nineteen. 

PETER.     Nineteen. 

HUBER.  (Measuring  bottom  of  trousers)  I 
don't  mean  that  there  was  any  childish  nonsense 
about  it.  Dr.  Sonntag  is  a  scholar,  and  naturally 
that  takes  up  most  of  his  time.  (To  PETERJ  Six- 
teen. 

PETER.     Sixteen.     Cuff  or  no  cuff? 

HUBER.     (To  ROWLANDS,)     Cuff? 

ROWLANDS.     Cuff. 

HUBER.     (To  PETER ;    Cuff. 

PETER.     (As  he  writes)    Cuff. 

(ROWLANDS  puts  on  his  vest  and  coat,  while  PETER 
pushes  the  fitting-stand  under  the  table  up 
Right,  and  then  goes  into  the  work-room. 
HUBER  puts  the  manuscript  again  on  the  desk, 
and  helps  ROWLANDS  on  with  his  overcoat.) 

HUBER.  And  as  for  Tanya,  I  have  brought  her 
up  to  be  an  obedient  daughter  in  every  respect.  I 
intend  her  to  be  just  such  a  wife  as  her  mother  was 
to  me  back  in  the  old  country.  And  now,  Mr.  Row- 
lands, I  suppose  you  can't  give  me  any  good  advice 


12  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

about  how  to  get  the  book  published,  you  being  such 
a  prominent  and  influential  editor. 

ROWLANDS.  But  I'm  not  an  editor;  I'm  a  special 
writer. 

HUBER.     A  what,  sir? 

ROWLANDS.  A  special  writer.  I  dig  up  the  live 
stuff,  put  it  on  paper  and  peddle  it. 

(At  this  moment  the  shop  door  opens,  and  DR.  Gus- 
TAVUS  SONNTAG  enters.  He  is  an  intellectual, 
self-centred  scholar  of  about  thirty-five,  with  a 
surly  and  tyrannical  manner.  He  is  rather  pic- 
turesque in  his  dress  and  appearance,  and  his 
German  accent  is  pleasant.) 

SONNTAG.  Why  does  nobody  answer  the  house 
bell?  I  have  been  ringing  it  for  five  minutes. 

HUBER.  (Trying  to  pacify  him)  Tanya  must  be 
out,  Dr.  Sonntag. 

SONNTAG.     Where  did  she  go? 

HUBER.     I  don't  know. 

SONNTAG.     Was  she  alone? 

HUBER.     Why,  yes. 

SONNTAG.  Well,  you  may  tell  her  I  was  dis- 
pleased not  to  find  her !  (Starting  to  go) 

HUBER.  But,  Doctor,  one  moment!  ^SONNTAG 
stops)  I  would  like  you  to  meet  Mr.  Rowlands,  the 
famous  editor.  Mr.  Rowlands,  this  is  Dr.  Gustavus 
Sonntag.  (To  SONNTAG,  after  the  men  acknowledge 
the  introduction)  He  was  just  making  some  in- 
quiries about  your  book  this  very  minute. 

SONNTAG.     (Halting  with  interest)    Ah! 

HUBER.     He  desired  to  know  what  it  is  all  about. 

SONNTAG.  (To  ROWLANDS,)  It  is  a  new  Induc- 
tive Philosophy  of  the  Social  Organism. 

HUBER.  (Beamingly)  That's  it!  Clever  sub- 
ject, eh?  Tell  him  further,  Doctor. 

SONNTAG.    The  first  twenty- four  chapters  are  de- 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  13 

voted  to  the  exposition  of  an  original  theory  of  the 
Rights  of  Property. 

HUBER.    That's  it!    Rights  of  Property!    Fine! 

SONNTAG.  With  arguments  drawn  from  meta- 
physics, anthropology,  zoology 

ROWLANDS.  (Interrupting)  I  get  you!  But  tell 
me  one  thing,  Doctor,  do  you  expect  to  support 
yourself,  wife  and  possible  offspring  by  the  labors 
of  your  pen? 

SONNTAG.     Certainly. 

ROWLANDS.  Then,  my  dear  Doctor,  I'd  advise 
you  to  take  those  twenty-four  chapters  and  lock 
them  up  in  your  bureau  drawer  at  once,  and  turn 
your  hand  to  something  that  somebody  will  be  inter- 
ested in  reading.  You  know  that  dry-as-dust  theo- 
retical stuff  is  only  good  to  be  scrapped. 

SONNTAG.  (Angrily)  But  I  tell  you  this  is  sen- 
sational !  It  will  cause  a  revolution. 

ROWLANDS.  No  doubt — among  the  mummies. 
Now,  if  you  would  take  up,  say  some  little  scandal 
in  fashionable  society,  that  might  make  a  hit. 

SONNTAG.  (Scornfully)  No,  thank  you!  I'll 
write  big  things  or  nothing  at  all !  (He  takes  off  his 
hat  and  overcoat  and  puts  them  on  the  table) 

HUBER.  (To  ROWLANDS,  with  conciliatory  man- 
ner) You  must  excuse  him,  Mr.  Rowlands,  that  is 
the  scholar  of  it.  They  are  not  like  us.  Now,  if 
you  would  be  able  to  come  in  for  the  trying-on  next 
Tuesday,  Mr.  Rowlands? 

ROWLANDS.  Tuesday  ?  Very  well.  (As  he  goes 
to  the  door)  Oh,  Doctor,  let  me  know  when  that 
revolution  comes  and  I'll  give  it  a  write-up.  (Exit.) 

SONNTAG.     Humph ! 

HUBER.  (Protestingly,  earnestly)  Now  what 
for  do  you  treat  an  influential  man  like  that  so  offish 
and  sullen  ?  I  think  his  advice  is  good. 

('TANYA  enters  by  the  stairs.    She  is  a  sweet,  simple 


14  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

girl  of  eighteen;  slight  of  build,  but  sturdy,  and 
loyal  through  and  through.  She  carries  a  ledger 
which  she  places  on  the  desk,  and  stands  listen- 
ing, unnoticed  by  the  two  men.) 

SONNTAG.  (Loftily  insulted)  My  dear  Mr. 
Huber,  you  may  be  a  most  excellent  tailor,  but  I 
beg  you  not  to  afflict  me  any  more  with  your  literary 
advice. 

HUBER.  (Flaring  up )  Very  well !  And  I  beg 
you  not  to  be  disrespectful  any  more  to  one  of  my 
patrons,  because  I  will  not  have  it !  So! 

( TANYA  places  the  ledger  she  is  carrying  on  the 
desk  and  comes  toward  the  two  men.) 

SONNTAG.     I  say  what  I  choose ! 

HUBER.  Not  in  my  shop !  My  shop  is (See- 
ing TANYA  as  she  comes  between  them)  'Sh! 
Tanya ! 

TANYA.  (Smilingly  reproachful)  Ah,  ah, 
naughty  old  bears !  Aren't  you  ashamed !  At  it 


again 


HUBER.  (Rather  sheepishly)  It  wasn't  my  fault, 
Tanya. 

TANYA.  (With  ironical  amusement)  Oh,  I'm 
sure  of  that,  Father. 

SONNTAG.     It  wasn't  my  fault ! 

TANYA.  Of  course  it  wasn't.  You  know,  I  never 
saw  the  time  when  either  of  you  was  to  blame  for 
anything. 

HUBER.  I  was  only  giving  him  a  little  good  ad- 
vice. There  was  no  need  for  him  to  get  mad. 

SONNTAG.  (Loftily)  Your  respectable  father 
recommends  me  to  write  things  that  would  amuse 
people  I 

TANYA.  Why,  that's  a  perfectly  splendid  idea ! 
Why  don't  you  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  15 

SONNTAG.     (Insulted)    I  do  not  write  for  idiots ! 

TANYA.  Well,  I  can't  say  it's  a  very  bright  out- 
look for  a  girl  who's  fond  of  pretty  clothes  and 
society  and  things  going  on.  Don't  you  think  if  I'm 
to  marry  you,  you  might  consider  me  a  little  and 
write  something  that  would  bring  in  some  money? 

SONNTAG.  (With  scorn)  Oh,  so  it  makes  no 
difference  to  you  that  I  have  written  here  a  book 
that  will  live  long  after  you  are  dead,  buried  and 
forgotten ! 

TANYA.  Perhaps  it's  wicked  of  me,  but  I  would 
like  to  be  happy  before  I  am  dead,  buried  and  for- 
gotten. Heigh-ho!  (And  she  sits  at  the  desk  and 
busies  herself  with  the  ledger.) 

SONNTAG.  (Harshly)  Tanya  Huber,  what  has 
got  into  you  lately?  You  did  not  use  to  talk  this 
way.  (Sitting  opposite  her  at  the  desk) 

HUBER.  (As  he  moves  over  toward  TANYA) 
Tanya,  you  must  be  more  respectful  to  Dr.  Sonntag. 

(PETER  enters  from  the  work-room  with  a  dress- 
suit  over  his  arm,  which  he  throws  on  the  work- 
table.) 

PETER.  Well,  here  they  are.  (And  he  throws 
the  suit  on  the  work-table) 

HUBER.     What  is  it,  Peter? 

PETER.  These  dress  clothes  are  ready  to  be 
pressed. 

HUBER.  (Sharply)  Well,  why  don't  you  run 
along  and  press  them  ?  Twice  already  has  Mr.  Jelli- 
cot  telephoned  this  afternoon. 

PETER.  (Sturdily)  Mr.  Huber,  my  work  is  cut- 
tin',  bastin',  rippin',  stitchin',  button-holm'  and  linin', 
and  anything  outside  of  that  goes  against  the  by- 
laws. The  pressin'  in  this  shop  is  did  by  John  Paul 
Bart. 


16  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

HUBER.  My  God!  And  they  call  this  the  land 
of  the  free ! 

SONNTAG.  (With  lofty  calm,  pointing  to  PETER) 
There  you  have  it !  This  very  anomaly  I  explain 
in  my  book.  "Here,"  I  say,  "is  not  a  Democracy, 
but  a  Proletariarchy." 

HUBER.     (Testily)    What  is  this  Proliarchy? 

SONNTAG.  Proletariarchy !  It  is  a  word  I  coined 
myself. 

HUBER.  (After  an  outbreak  in  German)  I  want 
John  Paul  Bart!  (TANYA  goes  to  him,  anxious 
to  placate  him)  Where  is  he,  the  conceited,  good- 
for-nothing  loafer  with  his  fine  gentleman  manners 
and  his  manicured  finger  nails?  Three  hours  and  a 
half  since  I  sent  him  on  that  errand!  Wait  till  he 
comes  back !  He'll  get  something  that  will  surprise 
him! 

PETER.  (With  grim  satisfaction)  And  'igh  time, 
if  I  do  say  it!  He's  bad  all  through,  is  Johnny 
Paul,  bad ! 

TANYA.  (Indignantly)  Peter,  that's  a  perfectly 
horrid  thing  to  say  of  anybody ! 

(While  TANYA  is  speaking,  JOHN  PAUL  BART  passes 
the  Right  show-window,  and  stands  at  the  door, 
looking  in.  He  is  a  clean-cut,  likable  young 
chap,  very  human  and  thoroughly  sincere.  His 
belief  in  himself  is  not  mere  self-conceit,  but  a 
real  and  fine  thing.  His  clothes  are  shabby,  but 
even  so  they  have  "an  air.") 

PETER.    (As  JOHN  PAUL  enters)    Johnny  Paul! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Everybody  here?  Delightful! 
(Doffing  his  hat  charmingly)  Miss  Huber!  Mr. 
Huber !  Dr.  Sonntag !  (With  a  casual  nod  to  PETER ) 
Peter!  (Turning  to  HUBER)  I  trust,  sir,  that  my 
slight  tardiness  has  not  occasioned  you  any  incon- 
venience ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  17 

HUBER.     (Testily)    It  has. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  I'm  sorry !  (He  takes  off  his 
overcoat,  preparatory  to  work.) 

HUBER.  (After  a  brief  silence)  Well,  why 
don't  you  come  along  and  tell  me  it  takes  three 
hours  and  a  half  to  measure  for  a  suit  of  clothes? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'd  no  idea  of  telling  you  such  a 
thing,  Mr.  Huber.  It  only  takes  ten  minutes.  But 
first,  of  course,  you  must  get  your  chance  to  take  the 
measurements.  At  the  time  of  my  arrival  the  gouty 
old  party  was  still  dallying  over  his  lunch.  And  now 
I  ask  you  candidly,  Mr.  Huber,  could  you  expect  me 
to  measure  the  gouty  old  party's  legs  while  said  legs 
were  under  the  table?  (No  answer  from  HUBER ) 
There,  you  see!  Of  course  not.  I  saw  my  duty  at 
once.  It  was  to  wait.  I  waited.  Voila! 

HUBER.     Voila!    What  is  that  voila? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Casually,  as  he  takes  off  his  coat 
and  rolls  up  his  shirt-sleeves)  Just  a  little  scrap  of 
French  I  picked  uo  while  waiting.  One  of  those  un- 
translatable little  idioms  with  which  the  French  lan- 
guage is  so  richly  supplied.  It  means — well — (With 
an  expressive  gesture) — Voila ! 

PETER.  (With  a  snort)  Oh,  pickles!  (Exits 
to  work-room) 

HUBER.  And  so  that's  how  you  wasted  three 
hours  and  a  half ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Wasted!  My  dear  sir,  I  improved 
each  shining  moment.  I  conversed  with  the  young 
lady  who  makes  the  beds — Nanette  her  name  was ; 
short  for  Antoinette — and  I  gave  her  a  little  help  in 
making  them.  I  conversed  with  the  young  lady  who 
superintends  the  children.  (Handing  TANYA  a 
photograph  which  he  takes  from  his  coat  pocket) 
Here's  a  picture  of  the  babies. 

TANYA.     Oh,  aren't  they  cunning! 


i8  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  assisted  in  dressing  one  of  them. 
(With  a  smile  at  TANYA^  It  was  most  educational. 
I  love  to  interchange  ideas. 

HUBER.  If  you  loved  to  work  you'd  make  a  bet- 
ter tailor. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I've  no  desire  to  make  a  better 
tailor. 

TANYA.  (With  delight)  Oh,  John  Paul,  how 
funny  you  are !  (Handing  him  back  the  photograph) 

HUBER.  (Severely)  Funny!  What  is  there 
funny  about  him? 

SONNTAG.  (Conclusively)  There  is  nothing 
funny  about  him !  He  is  disgusting.  (And  he  goes 
upstairs) 

TANYA.     (Protesting)    Oh,  Gustavus! 

HUBER.  (To  JOHN  PAUL,)  The  next  thing  for 
you  to  do  is  to  press  Mr.  Jellicot's  dress  clothes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  an  agreeable  smile)  Avec 
plaisir,  monsieur. 

HUBER.  (Harshly)  And  none  of  your  damn 
French,  do  you  hear  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Quietly,  blandly)  Perfectly.  You 
said,  "None  of  your  damn  French!"  Wasn't  that 
it  ?  (He  goes  back  of  work-table  and  is  ready  to  be- 
gin pressing.) 

HUBER.  (To  TANYA,  after  a  furious  outbreak 
in  German)  See  here,  you,  I  have  something  to  say 
to  this  fine  gentleman  in  private !  (He  motions  her 
toward  the  stairs) 

TANYA.  (Pleadingly)  But,  Father,  he  doesn't 
mean  any  harm !  Can't  you  see  it's  only  his  funny 
way? 

HUBER.     (Sternly)     Upstairs ! 

TANYA.  Oh,  but  Father,  please  don't  be  cross 
with  John  Paul ! 

HUBER.  Upstairs !  I  know  what  to  say  to  John 
Paul! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  19 

TANYA.  But,  Father,  this  is  the  night  you  have 
to  speak  at  that  Lodge  meeting  in  Queensboro. 
You'll  be  late. 

HUBER.     I   will   see  to   that.     This   comes  first. 

('TANYA  pantomimes  to  JOHN  PAUL  to  be  careful, 
placing;  her  finger  on  her  lips.  As  HUBER  turns 
and  sees  her  she  quickly  leaves  the  room.) 

HUBER.  And  now,  John  Paul,  I'll  ask  you  to 
listen  to  a  few  remarks  that  I've  been  saving  up 
since  a  long  time. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Smiling  as  if  flattered,  as  he  seats 
himself  near  HUBER,)  Why,  anything  you  can  say, 
Mr.  Huber,  is  sure  to  interest  me. 

HUBER.  (Angrily)  Maybe  you  don't  realize  that 
7  am  the  boss  of  this  shop  and  that  your  wages 
come  from  me! 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  realize  it  acutely,  Mr.  Huber. 

HUBER.  (Goaded  to  fury  by  the  other's  manner) 
You  do,  do  you  ?  Then  why  must  I  always  be  hav- 
ing trouble  with  you?  Look  at  Peter  McConkie! 
See  how  he  sticks  to  his  work !  See  how  ambitious 
he  is  to  better  himself !  Why,  he  even  works  nights 
as  well  as  days ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Indeed!  Night  work?  I  wasn't 
aware  this  shop  was  open  nights. 

HUBER.  Not  in  the  shop.  There  has  been  a 
shortage  of  waiters  this  winter 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Interrupting)    Peter,  a  waiter! 

HUBER.  Well,  at  nights.  I  was  very  glad  to 
recommend  him  to  a  friend  of  mine  with  influence. 
And  very  good  money  he  makes,  too,  helping  out 
as  an  extra  at  swell  parties.  QOHN  PAUL  laughs) 
What  are  you  laughing  at  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  wish  I  could  see  Peter  handing 
about  refreshments. 


20  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

HUBER.  Whatever  Peter  does  is  done  well.  He 
would  be  a  good  example  for  you  to  follow.  Why 
have  you  no  ambition,  no  self-respect  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  But  I  have!  I  have  both  those 
qualities,  Mr.  Huber,  but  what  good  do  they  do  me 
here?  What  chance  do  you  give  me  to  use  them 
here  ?  From  morning  till  night  you  keep  dinging  into 
me  that  I  am  your  inferior,  your  servant;  that  my 
only  excuse  for  being  here  at  all  is  that  heap  of 
clothes  there.  If  I  press  pants  for  so  many  hours  a 
day,  you  give  me  my  wages  and  there's  an  end  of  it. 
Do  you  see  anything  in  that  to  stimulate  a  fellow's 
ambition  ? 

HUBER.     (Disgusted)     Oh,  you  talk  too  much! 

JOHN  PAUL.  But  here's  an  idea  I've  been  turning 
over  in  my  mind.  If  you  would  consider  giving 
me  a  share  in  the  management  of  this  establishment 
I  believe  I  could  accomplish  things  that  would 
amaze  you. 

HUBER.  (Furiously)  You  actually  propose ! 

Kreutz  Donnerwetter,  noch  einmal !  Of  all  the  im- 
pudence I  ever  yet  was  to  meet!  I  tell  you  right 
here,  John  Paul,  another  such  time-  like  this  after- 
noon and  out  of  this  shop  you  go. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Quietly)    Oui,  monsieur. 

HUBER.  (Thoroughly  out  of  patience,  he  picks  up 
a  part  of  the  dress-suit  lying  with  the  other  garments 
waiting  to  be  pressed)  That's  what  you  ought  to  be 
thinking  of ! 


(JOHN  PAUL  goes  to  his  work  again.    TANYA  en- 
ters and  comes  quickly  to  her  father. ) 

TANYA.    Father  dear,  you  really  will  be  late  for 
that  meeting  in  Queensboro. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  21 

( HUBER  has  not  ceased  growling  and  sputtering,  but 
TANYA  pets  him  into  good  humor,  until  he 
laughs  and  kisses  her.  Then  he  takes  off  his 
apron  and  tape.) 

HUBER.  You  are  a  good  little  girl  to  remind  me. 
I  must  go  and  get  my  overcoat. 

TANYA.  (Getting  his  coat  and  helping  him  on 
with  it)  I  asked  Gustavus  to  bring  it  down. 

HUBER.  (Affectionately)  Always  saving  steps 
for  your  poor  old  Dada.  A  fine  little  housewife! 
What  would  I  have  done  without  you  these  ten  years 
since  Mamma  died? 

(SONNTAG  enters  with  HUBERTS  overcoat  and  hat.) 

TANYA.  And  what  would  I  have  done  without 
you  ?  (She  helps  him  on  with  the  overcoat,  then  gets 
his  hat  from  the  desk  and  hands  it  to  him) 

HUBER.  (Kissing  her)  Good-night,  Tanya ! 
Good-night,  Dr.  Sonntag! 

SONNTAG.     Good-night,  Mr.  Huber. 

HUBER.  (At  the  street  door)  And  now,  John 
Paul,  pay  attention.  Those  dress  clothes  are  to  be 
delivered  to  Mr.  Jellicot  the  moment  they  are  fin- 
ished; the  suit  and  the  fur  overcoat  in  the  work- 
room, and  you  are  not  to  quit  work  till  they  are 
done.  Do  you  hear  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Mildly)  I  thought  I  had  proved 
to  you  that  my  auditory  faculties  were  normal. 

HUBER.  (Sputtering,  too  angry  to  speak)  Good- 
night, Tanya! 

TANYA.     Good-night,  Father. 

(HUBER  exits.) 

JOHN  PAUL.     Something  must  have  irritated  him. 
TANYA.    (Half  laughing,  half  reproachful)  John 


22  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

Paul,  why  must  you  always  rub  Father  the  wrong 
way?  (She  seats  herself  near  the  work-table.) 

JOHN.  PAUL.  (With  quiet  seriousness)  It  isn't 
intentional,  Miss  Tanya,  I  give  you  my  word.  I 
suppose  he  wants  me  to  talk  like  a  tailor,  but  that's 
a  thing  I  can't  do. 

SONNTAG.     And  why  not? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  casual  manner,  but  posi- 
tively) Destiny. 

SONNTAG.  (Loftily  amused)  Destiny!  And 
what  do  you  mean  by  Destiny,  if  you  please? 

JOHN  PAUL.  You've  heard  it  said  you  can't  make 
a  silk  purse  out  of  a  sow's  ear.  Well,  the  contrary  is 
just  as  true.  You  can't  make  a  sow's  ear  out  of  a 
silk  purse.  (With  definiteness)  It  can't  be  done. 

SONNTAG.  And  that  excuses  you  for  staying 
away  from  the  shop  all  the  afternoon? 

JOHN  PAUL.  You've  no  idea  how  these  surround- 
ings depress  me.  I  stifle !  My  whole  being  cries  out 
for  a  more  stimulating  atmosphere.  Physically, 
Doctor,  I  feel  better — more  keenly  sensitized — at  the 
Knickerbocker  Club.  ('SONNTAG  laughs  sneeringly) 
Oh,  I  often  put  in  a  few  hours  there. 

TANYA.     The  Knickerbocker  Club! 

SONNTAG.  And  pray  how  would  you  ever  get  in 
the  Knickerbocker  Club? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  the  front  way  isn't  the  only 
way,  Doctor.  An  acquaintance  of  mine  is  billiard 
marker  there,  and  by  his  assistance  I  have  often  got 
in  and  been  allowed  to  watch  what  goes  on  from  be- 
hind a  swing  door. 

SONNTAG.     (With  contempt)    Oh! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Not  very  dignified,  you  say? 
Granted.  But  I  must  get  my  schooling  somehow,  and 
once  on  my  sentry  duty  I  don't  let  a  syllable  or  a  ges- 
ture get  by  me.  At  first  it  seemed  to  me  I  could 
never  acquire  that  unconscious,  easy  bearing  that 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  23 

marks  those  fellows,  but  I  kept  at  it  and  now  I  can 
turn  the  trick  as  well  as  the  best  of  them. 

SONNTAG.  (Laughing  sarcastically)  Listen  to 
that!  A  regular  young  aristocrat!  You're  crazy! 

JOHN  PAUL.     So  is  every  genius. 

SONNTAG.    7  am  not  crazy ! 

('TANYA  and  JOHN  PAUL  look  at  each  other  and 
smile.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Picking  up  his  iron  and  going 
toward  SONNTAG)  Surely,  Doctor,  you've  read 
Lombroso  on  "Insanity  and  Genius."  It's  a  classic. 
There's  one  chapter  that 

(TETER  enters  with  a  suit  over  his  arm  which  he 
hands  to  TANYA  while  JOHN  PAUL  returns  to  his 
work.) 

PETER.  Thirty  minutes  overtime  to  get  these  fin- 
ished up. 

TANYA.  Yes,  Peter,  I'll  do  them  up.  Oh,  will 
you  deliver  them,  Peter? 

PETER.  Yes,  but  that  will  be  forty-five  minutes. 
Miss  Huber,  be  sure  to  give  me  credit  for  forty-five 
minutes  overtime. 

TANYA.  (Laughing  as  she  packs  the  suit  in  a 
box)  Very  well,  Peter,  I'll  see  to  it. 

PETER.  (As  JOHN  PAUL  laughs)  So  you've 
really  started  to  work,  have  ye,  Johnny  Paul !  I'm 
surprised ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Bored)  May  I  beg  you  not  to  ad- 
dress me  as  Johnny  Paul  ? 

PETER.  And  why  not  Johnny  Paul,  if  you  please? 
Ain't  you  a  tailor's  hand  like  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Temporarily. 

PETER.  See  here,  Mr.  Stuck-up,  talk'll  never  get 
you  nowheres.  It's  work;  honest  work  and  good 


24  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

habits.  Now  me,  I  work  nights  as  well  yas  days,  I 
do,  and  I'm  savin'  up  every  dollar  and  layin'  it  by, 
7  am. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Then  some  day  you  may  have  a  nice 
little  tailor  shop  of  your  own,  you  may. 

PETER.  (With  his  most  cutting  sarcasm)  Aye, 
and  when  I  have  that,  do  you  know  what  you'll  have  ? 
A  nice  little  uniform  with  stripes  goin'  round  this 
way! 

TANYA.     Oh,  for  shame,  Peter  McConkie ! 

PETER.  Well,  he's  got  ideas  that'll  get  him  into 
trouble  some  day,  they  will.  I  know  what  I'm  talkin1 
about.  Why,  only  this  mornin'  he  accused  me  to 
my  face  of  livin'  off'n  my  betters. 

JOHN  PAUL.    (Quietly)    Well,  and  so  you  do. 

PETER.  (Flaring  up)  And  so  I  does,  do  I!  I 
like  that !  I  think  you'd  better  come  along  and  ex- 
plain what  you  mean  by  that !  (Threateningly) 
Livin'  off'n  my  betters ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Now,  see  here,  Peter  McConkie, 
where  would  you  be  if  it  weren't  for  the  rich  people 
you're  always  abusing  with  your  cheap  epithets? 
How  would  you  earn  a  living?  Do  you  think  people 
of  your  own  class  would  pay  a  hundred  dollars  for 
cutting  a  smart  suit  of  clothes  ?  Well,  hardly !  You 
owe  the  very  means  of  your  existence  to  us. 

PETER.     You! 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  meant  the  upper  classes. 

PETER.    (Dumfounded)    D'ye  hear  that  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  If  everybody  had  money,  what  value 
would  money  have?  fSoNNTAG  turns  and  listens) 
There'd  be  no  incentive  to  ambition,  to  industry. 
No,  money  must  be  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  the 
few.  It  is  their  touch,  and  theirs  alone,  which  trans- 
mutes it  into  a  precious  metal.  (Tapping  PETER 
lightly  on  the  chest)  See? 

PETER.  (Sullenly)  No,  I  don't  see!  I  haven't 
the  least  idea  what  you're  spoutin*  about,  but  I  know 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  25 

this :  whatever  it  is,  it's  rotten  !  (He  takes  the  box 
which  TANYA  hands  him  and  exits.) 

SONNTAG.  Look  here,  Johnny  Paul,  you  got  that 
from  my  book. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Blandly)    Big  stuff,  isn't  it? 

SONNTAG.     I  thought  so  when  I  wrote  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  thought  so  when  I  read  it. 

SONNTAG.  You  mean  to  tell  me  you've  been  read- 
ing my  manuscript? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Indeed  I  have,  Doctor !  I've  read  it 
three  times  over  and  I'm  delighted  with  this  oppor- 
tunity to  congratulate  you.  It's  enormous!  (And 
he  shakes  SONNTAG'S  hand  heartily.) 

SONNTAG.  (Dumfounded,  as  he  pulls  his  hand 
away.)  Well,  of  all  the  nerve ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Airily,  as  he  follows  SONNTAG  L.J 
Don't  mention  it,  sir,  nothing  at  all.  A  work  of 
genius,  Dr.  Sonntag,  and  I  can't  tell  you  how  grati- 
fied I  was  to  find  set  down  in  black  and  white  the 
very  things  I've  vaguely  felt  myself — without  know- 
ing how  to  phrase  them.  Why,  it's  just  as  if  I'd 
dictated  it  to  you — whole  passages — especially  the 
brilliant  ones.  Now  this,  for  instance :  "Riches  are 

a  Golden  Calf  which "  No,  that's  not  what  I'm 

after.  Hold  on  a  bit.  (Taking  several  small  pir.k 
cards  from  his  pocket  and  running  them  over)  I 
jotted  down  a  few  hasty  notes. 

SONNTAG.  Notes!  You've  been  making  notes 
from  my  book !  (He  looks  over  JOHN  PAUL'S  left 
shoulder  at  the  notes,  and  TANYA  looks  over  the 
other.) 

TANYA.    Oh,  let  me  see,  too ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  here  we  are.  (He  reads  from 
the  slips)  "Riches  are  the  basis  and  symbol  of  that 
power  which  keeps  the  wheels  of  the  social  organism 
functionally  reciprocal."  There's  a  magnificent  sen- 
tence for  you !  Fills  the  mouth !  "Functionally  re- 
ciprocal." You  can  set  your  teeth  in  that ! 


26  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

SONNTAG.  (With  lofty  irony)  Well,  Tanya,  I 
was  not  aware  your  father  had  a  critic  in  his  em- 
ploy. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  I'm  no  critic,  Dr.  Sonntag.  All 
I  know  is :  those  ideas  have  the  right  feel  to  them. 
They'll  go!  They'll  work! 

SONNTAG.    You  flatter  me !    (Sitting  R.  of  L.  desk ) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Moving  over  Right  of  him)  The 
only  trouble  is — pardon  my  frankness,  Doctor,  I 
have  to  say  this — you're  dull. 

SONNTAG.    (Dumfounded)    Eh ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  dullness  is  fatal.  Why,  I  tell 
you  that  a  man  with  a  breezy,  human  personality, 
agreeable  manners,  and  the  right  degree  of  self- 
confidence — like  me,  for  instance — why,  with  those 
ideas  I  could  lift  the  world  off  its  axis. 

TANYA.  (With  enthusiasm)  Oh,  I  believe  you 
could ! 

SONNTAG.  It  was  a  mistake  to  leave  the  manu- 
script where  you  could  get  it.  I  see  it  has  upset 
you. 

JOHN  PAUL.  On  the  contrary,  it  has  set  me  up. 
At  last  I  know  where  I  stand. 

SONNTAG.  (Patronizingly)  Oh,  I  see!  You 
have  ambitions. 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  have. 

SONNTAG.    What  sort? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Big. 

SONNTAG-     You  see  yourself  at  the  top. 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  do. 

SONNTAG.  (Amused)  Well,  you  don't  seem  to 
be  getting  there  very  fast. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'm  a  fatalist.  I  believe  in  my  star, 
I'm  waiting  for  it  to  rise. 

SONNTAG.  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  wait  a  long 
time. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  27 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  main  thing  is  to  be  ready  when 
it  rises. 

(He  goes  back  to  his  pressing,  and  TANYA  sits 
watching  him.  SONNTAG  notices  her  gaze,  and 
is  instantly  annoyed.) 

SONNTAG.    Tanya!    Over  here! 

(TANYA  goes  obediently.  But  just  then  the  street 
door  opens,  and  POMEROY  enters.  He  is  a 
plump,  rather  effeminate  man,  ^vith  a  comic  per- 
sonality. He  is  carrying  a  suit-case  and  hat- 
box:.) 

POMEROY.  I  want  to  speak  at  once  to  the  pro- 
prietor of  this  establishment. 

TANYA.  I'm  sorry,  but  Mr.  Huber  is  out  for  the 
evening. 

POMEROY.  (Peevishly)  Oh,  he  is,  is  he?  And 
how  about  those  dress  clothes  he  promised  to  send 
to  Jellicot?  Jellicot  has  telephoned  twice  already, 
he  has,  and  now  I've  had  to  come. 

TANYA.  (Going  to  the  worktable  and  touching  the 
clothes  JOHN  PAUL  is  working  on)  These  are  Mr. 
Jellicot's  clothes,  aren't  they? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes.  I'll  have  them  done  in  a  very 
few  minutes. 

POMEROY.     'Igh  time,  I  should  say  so! 

TANYA.  I'll  send  the  clothes  over  the  moment 
they  are  ready. 

POMEROY.  Yes,  and  that's  what  Huber  said  over 
the  'phone  and  still  nothing  comes  of  it.  No,  I'm 
going  to  wait  right  here  and  see  that  the  man  don't 
waste  his  time. 

TANYA.  Very  well,  you're  perfectly  welcome  to 
do  so.  Won't  you  sit  down  ? 

POMEROY.    (As  he  sits,  Right  Centre;  TANYA  goes 


28  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

left  of  him)  You  don't  know  what  I've  been  through 
since  five  o'clock !  Such  a  scene  as  Jellicot  makes ! 
Always  does  if  things  go  wrong  with  his  clothes. 
"You  get  the  hell  out  of  here!"  Jellicot  says,  "and 
buy  me  a  brand  new  outfit;  silk  hat,  collars,  'ose, 
and  everything." 

TANYA.  You  mean  to  say  you  had  to  buy  Mr. 
Jellicot  a  complete  new  outfit? 

(Throughout  this  scene  JOHN  PAUL,  who  is  press- 
ing, is  also  listening  intently  to  POMEROY.  J 

POMEROY.     Yes,  Miss. 

TANYA.     Why  ? 

POMEROY.  Because  he  wants  to  look  his  best 
to-night.  He's  going  to  the  big  'ouse-warming  at 
the  Stanlaws. 

JOHN  PAUL.    (Eagerly)    The  Stanlaws !    Really ! 

POMEROY.  (Amused)  What  do  you  know  about 
the  Stanlaws,  young  fellow? 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  Stanlaws?  Very  rich,  very  ex- 
clusive. One  daughter,  Corinne,  the  most  beautiful 
heiress  in  New  York. 

POMEROY.  (Amused)  He's  right !  Cuts  a  great 
figure,  them  Stanlaws.  Why,  one  of  the  most 
prominent  gentlemen  in  this  country  has  promised 
to  be  at  their  party  to-night. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Abraham  Nathan. 

POMEROY.  (To  TANYA,)  He's  right  again.  (To 
JOHN  PAUL,)  Say,  you're  quite  up  on  the  society 
jottings,  ain't  you,  for  a  tailor's  hand? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  am  an  insatiable  reader — of  the 
newspapers. 

TANYA.    Is  this  Abraham  Nathan  somebody  quite 

big? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Quite  big! 

POMEROY.    Big !    Oh ! 

SONNTAG.     (With  rude  laughter)     Why   don't 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  29 

you  ask  if  Pierpont  Morgan  is  somebody  quite  big? 
Abraham  Nathan  is  the  President  of  the  American 
Oceanic  Shipbuilding  Corporation,  the  biggest 
proposition  of  its  kind  in  the  Western  Hemisphere. 

POMEROY.     He's  right! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  philosophical  manner)  And 
yet,  though  this  American  Shipbuilding  Corporation 
faces  to-day  the  greatest  opportunity  of  its  career, 
it's  in  a  mess  with  everybody.  Its  employees  hate 
it ;  the  Government  hates  it ;  worst  of  all  the  public 
hates  it,  and  this  despite  the  fact  that  nothing  is  so 
important  to  win,  or  so  easy  to  win  if  you  only  know 
how,  as  the  favor  of  the  public.  It  is  the  public 
that  makes  you — the  public  that  breaks  you. 

SONNTAG.  (Condescendingly  amused)  And 
what  do  you  know  about  the  matter,  Mr.  Bart  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  have  made  an  earnest  study  of 
your  book,  Dr.  Sonntag. 

POMEROY.  (Impressed,  he  turns  and  looks  at 
SONNTAGJ  Book!  Oh! 

SONNTAG.     That  is  not  in  my  book. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Oh,  yes,  it  is. 

SONNTAG.    Where? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Between  the  lines. 

(POMEROY  laughs.) 

SONNTAG.  (Angrily)  You  had  better  stick  to 
your  clothes  pressing.  (And  he  turns  his  back  on  the 
group) 

POMEROY.  (To  JOHN  PAUL)  Yes,  please  do  me 
a  favor  and  get  them  done.  Jellicot  wants  to  meet 
Nathan  to-night.  Wants  to  remind  him  of  something. 
Comical?  (He  laughs,  as  he  turns  toward  SONN- 
TAGJ  Say,  you'd  split ! 

( SONNTAG  grunts  and  continues  looking  the  other 
way.) 


30  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

TANYA.    Tell  us  about  it. 

POMEROY.  Well,  it  was  on  the  day  of  the  Pre- 
paredness Parade,  and  Nathan  was  just  leaving  the 
reviewing  stand  with  the  Governor  when  some 
cracked  idiot  of  a  laboring  man  up  and  lets  fly  a 
stone  right  at  Nathan's  head.  Might  have  killed 
him  like  as  not,  but  Jellicot,  seeing  the  stone  com- 
ing, jerks  off  his  topper  and  catches  the  stone  with 
it  very  neat  and  natty-like.  Well,  sir,  what  does  the 
great  Nathan  do  then?  He  grabs  Jellicot's  flipper 
and  says:  "My  dear  fellow,  I'll  never  forget  this!" 
And  then  he  steps  into  his  limousine — and  forgets. 

TANYA.     Oh,  what  a  lovely  story!! 

POMEROY.     (Chuckles)    Yes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  That's  one  of  the  best  stories  I  ever 
heard. 

POMEROY.     Yes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Picking  up  his  work)  Well,  I'm 
done. 

POMEROY.  (Rising  with  relief.)  Done?  Fine! 
I'll  trot  right  along  home  so  as  to  ease  poor  Jellicot's 
mind.  You'll  have  the  clothes  over  directly? 

JOHN  PAUL.    At  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

POMEROY.  That's  the  way  to  talk!  That's  the 
way  to  talk !  (He  picks  up  the  suit-case  and  hat  box 
and  prepares  to  go) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  wouldn't  you  like  me  to  bring 
those  things  along  at  the  same  time? 

POMEROY.  That's  very  obliging  of  you,  young 
fellow.  (And  he  gladly  piles  the  suit-case  and  hat 
box  in  BART'S  anns.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Don't  mention  it,  sir;  any  little  ser- 
vice. 

POMEROY.     Don't  forget  his  overcoat. 

JOHN  PAUL.  No,  sir,  it's  all  ready  in  the  work- 
room. I'll  take  that,  too. 

POMEROY.     Hurry  up,  now,  hurry  up! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Yes,  sir.    (He  exits  to  work-room.) 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  31 

POMEROY.  I'll  see  that  Jellicot  gives  him  a.  hand- 
some little  tip  when  he  comes.  (He  turns,  grinning, 
to  TANYA )  Oh,  but  while  I  think  of  it!  Young 
lady,  you  seem  to  be  a  nice  sort.  Are  you  fond  of 
automobiles  ? 

TANYA.     Why,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

POMEROY.  Well,  you  see,  when  Jellicot  some- 
times leaves  town  for  a  day  or  two  without  me,  it's 
quite  easy  for  me  to  get  the  use  of  his  car  for  the 
afternoon. 

TANYA.  Oh,  what  a  nice  arrangement!  You 
can  give  little  outings  to  all  your  lady  friends  free 
of  expense. 

POMEROY.  Oh,  no,  no,  not  free  of  expense.  We 
always  drop  in  somewhere  for  a  cup  of  tea  or  some- 
thing, and,  of  course,  that  always  costs.  But  what's 
a  couple  of  bob  more  or  less  to  me!  But  what  I 
was  going  to  say:  if  ever  you  feel  homesick  for  a 
merry  little  jaunt — merry  and  refined  at  the  same 
time — just  call  up  Lenox  6-4-0-0  and  ask  for  Pome- 
roy.  That's  me,  Pomeroy.  (Extending  his  hand) 
I'll  say  good-by,  Miss ? 

TANYA.     Huber. 

POMEROY.     Good  day,  Miss  Huber. 

TANYA.     Good  day! 

POMEROY.  (Smiling  and  bowing)  Good  day! 
Good  afternoon! 

(As  POMEROY  exits,  TANYA  goes  to  the  door,  closes 
it,  and  comes  to  SONNTAG.    She  is  still  smiling.) 

TANYA.    Is  anything  the  matter,  Gustavus? 

SONNTAG.     Yes  !     I  am  angry ! 

TANYA.  Why,  what  is  it?  Have  I  done  some- 
thing? 

SONNTAG.  Have  you  done  something?  Do  you 
think  I  would  be  pleased  to  hear  you  tittering  and 


32  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

sniggering  with  such  a  person  as  that  ?  A  silly,  con- 
ceited, unprincipled  valet! 

TANYA.  But  I  found  him  amusing.  Surely  you 
don't  object  to  my  laughing  a  little  now  and  then? 

SONNTAG.  Laugh  all  you  like,  but  after  this 
laugh  with  me! 

TANYA.  (With  a  wry  face  and  despairing  shrug) 
I  can't  do  that,  Gustavus,  it's  no  use. 

SONNTAG.  (As  he  strides  about  angrily)  Your 
manners  are  too  free  altogether;  no  modesty.  I 
won't  have  you  making  up  to  other  men  besides  me ! 

TANYA.     (With  a  flash)    Be  careful,  Gustavus! 

SONNTAG.     Eh  ? 

TANYA.  You  know  American  girls  do  not  take 
orders,  they  give  them. 

SONNTAG.  (Jeeringly)  Oho!  So  you  have  de- 
cided to  become  an  American  girl,  have  you?  Like 
them,  you  are  now  going  to  think  of  nothing  but 
dress  and  money  spending  and  pleasure  and  the  at- 
tentions of  the  other  sex.  I  have  been  noticing  a 
change  in  you  lately  and  it  does  not  please  me. 

TANYA.  (With  gentle  manner,  but  firm)  I  think 
it  would  be  good  for  us  to  understand  each  other  a 
little  better,  Gustavus. 

SONNTAG.    What? 

TANYA.  It's  true,  I  have  been  changing  lately. 
I  can  almost  feel  the  change  from  one  day  to  an- 
other. 

SONNTAG.     What  do  you  mean? 

TANYA.  I  jnean  that  I  have  been  brought  up  to 
obey  my  father;  always  to  reverence  his  wishes  no 
matter  if  they  pleased  me  or  not.  My  duty  was  to 
do  as  I  was  told. 

SONNTAG.  Well,  and  what  now?  Have  you  de- 
cided that  I  am  not  good  enough  for  you? 

TANYA.  I  have  not  decided  anything,  but  I  am 
watching  and  listening  and  beginning  to  think  a  lit- 
tle for  myself,  and  I  have  discovered  what  it  is  that 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  33 

American  girls  admire  most  in  a  man.  It  is  energy, 
ambition.  They  like  a  man  who  does  things.  So 
do  I! 

SONNTAG.  All  right,  then  tell  me  this:  do  you 
know  one  man  with  better  brains  than  I  ? 

TANYA.  (Quietly)  No,  Gustavus.  But  what  do 
you  do  with  them  ? 

SONNTAG.  (Furiously)  You  leave  my  brains 
alone ! 

TANYA.  Yes,  Gustavus.  (A  slight  pause)  Is 
there  anything  else? 

SONNTAG.  Yes !  Now  I  know  where  these  silly 
ideas  have  come  from.  I  might  have  seen  it  before ! 
From  that  man  in  there,  John  Paul  Bart!  I  saw 
you  just  now  listening  open-mouthed  to  his  con- 
ceited talk. 

(TANYA  has  risen.    Now  she  turns  indignantly  on 

SONNTAG.J 

TANYA.  Don't  call  it  conceited!  It  isn't  con- 
ceited !  It's  splendid  !  It's  fine ! 

SONNTAG.     Indeed ! 

TANYA.  Oh,  it  makes  me  furious  the  way  every- 
one of  you  is  down  on  John  Paul.  He  never  says 
one  word,  but  you  sneer  and  laugh  at  him.  Oh, 
why  can't  you  see  how  wonderful  it  is  that  he 
should  have  worked  this  out  all  alone,  without  a 
soul  in  the  world  to  help  him  or  encourage  him! 
Oh,  it's  not  fair ! 

SONNTAG.  (Staring  at  her  incredulously)  I 
might  have  guessed  it.  There  is  something  between 
you! 

TANYA.  That's  not  true.  But  I'm  his  friend, 
and  I'm  proud  of  it,  and  you  can't  stop  me! 

SONNTAG.  Listen,  Tanya — it  is  not  safe  to  trifle 
with  me.  I  am  ready  and  glad  to  overlook  many 
shortcomings  in  you,  but  I  am  not  a  man  to  be  trifled 


34  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

with.  Remember,  and  act  accordingly,  for  that  is 
the  man  you  are  going  to  marry.  Good-night, 
Tanya.  (Getting  his  hat  and  coat,  he  puts  them  on, 
then  turns  toward  her)  I  said  Good-night. 

TANYA.  (Quietly,  without  looking  at  him)  Good- 
night, Gustavus. 

(SONNTAG  leaves  haughtily.  While  he  has  been 
talking,  a  hurdy  gurdy  has  passed  the  windows, 
and  as  he  goes,  it  begins  playing  a  waltz.  The 
music  continues  unobtrusively  throughout  the 
remainder  of  the  act.  TANYA  stands  looking 
into  space  and  listening  dreamily  for  a  minute. 
Then  with  a  sigh  and  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders, 
she  pulls  down  the  shades,  and  goes  quietly  up- 
stairs. At  the  same  moment,  JOHN  PAUL  en- 
ters, dressed  in  evening  clothes,  the  fur  over- 
coat open  to  reveal  his  splendor.  He  takes  a 
pair  of  white  kid  gloves  from  the  pocket,  and 
stands  putting  them  on  in  front  of  the  large  mir- 
ror, as  he  moves  backward  and  forward  to  get 
the  ensemble  effect.  He  is  studying  himself  with 
critical  approbation,  when  TANYA  re-enters  from 
the  stairs,  carrying  the  coverings  for  the  tables. 
Somewhat  startled,  she  puts  them  on  the  desk, 
and  comes  toward  him,  not  recognising  him  un- 
til he  turns  and  faces  her.) 

TANYA.     (With  a  gasp)    Why ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Charmingly,  as  he  doffs  his  hat) 
You  don't  remember  me,  Miss  Huber? 

TANYA.    (Staring  incredulously)    John — Paul! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  an  engaging  manner)  Simply 
delighted  to  meet  you  again,  Miss  Huber.  I  thought 
you  were  still  at  Palm  Beach.  Caruso  is  in  horrible 
voice  this  evening,  don't  you  think?  (In  familiar 
manner)  Well  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  35 

TANYA.  (Still  unable  to  believe  her  eyes)  What 
in  the  world  has  happened  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Nothing,  nothing  whatever.  This  is 
what  I've  always  been,  only  my  clothes  are  a  little 
different. 

TANYA.     I — just — can't  believe  it ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  That  proves  I  was  right  when  I  said 
all  I  needed  was  the  clothes.  Would  you  ever  sus- 
pect this  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  I'd  been  on  the 
inside  of  a  dress  suit  ?  Lord,  how  good  it  does  feel ! 
I  always  knew  that  clothes  would  be  just  like  wings 
to  a  man  of  my  soaring  nature.  Without  them  I 
crept  along  the  ground  like  a  caterpillar.  With  them 
I  can  fly  straight  to  the  goal  of  my  dreams ! 

TANYA.     But  where  did  you  ever  get  them? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Destiny.  I've  waited  thirty-two 
years  and  five  months,  and  now,  all  of  a  sudden — 
without  any  warning — voila! 

TANYA.     Why,  those  are  Mr.  Jellicot's  clothes! 

JOHN  PAUL.  For  this  evening  they  are  my  clothes. 
Wouldn't  you  think  they  were  made  expressly  for 
me?  Look !  (He  throws  open  the  fur  coat,  demon- 
strating the  fit  of  the  garments.) 

TANYA.  But  you've  no  right  to  them!  You 
must  go  and  take  them  off  this  minute ! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Hardly ! 

TANYA.  But  you'll  get  Father  into  such  a  lot  of 
trouble ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  No,  I  won't,  leave  it  to  me.  Your 
father  shan't  suffer  by  anything  I  do. 

TANYA.  But  don't  you  realize  Mr.  Jellicot  needs 
those  clothes? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Not  half  so  badly  as  I  do. 

TANYA.     But  you  promised  to  take  them  to  him. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
The  earliest  possible  moment  is  to-morrow  morning. 
He  shall  have  them  to-morrow  morning.  No  one 
shall  say  I  am  not  a  man  of  my  word.  But  to- 


36  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

night!  Why,  I'd  have  to  be  a  tailor  all  the  rest  of 
my  life,  and  deserve  it,  too,  if  I  failed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  this  opportunity. 

TANYA.     Opportunity  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Haven't  you  roticed  that  everybody 
is  going  to  the  reception  at  the  Stanlaws  this  eve- 
ning? Well,  I'm  going,  too. 

TANYA.     You're  not  in  earnest ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  was  waiting  for 
my  star  to  rise?  Well,  it  has  risen.  Here  are  the 
clothes  to  make  me  presentable ;  that's  the  first  step. 
And  there,  in  the  palatial  mansion  I'm  going  to,  is 
the  great  Nathan,  the  inaccessible  Nathan,  ready  to 
make  my  fortune  for  me. 

TANYA.  But  you  can't  get  in!  You  don't  know 
a  soul  there ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Lucky !  1  don't  know  a  soul  and  not 
a  soul  knows  me.  I've  a  free  hand — carte  blanche. 
Everything  depends  on  my  own  wits. 

TANYA.     Oh,  you  can  never  do  it  in  the  world ! 

JOHN  PAUL.    It's  worth  a  try. 

TANYA.  But  suppose  Mr.  Jellicot  should  be 
there  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Without  his  clothes? 

TANYA.  But  how  can  you  get  introduced  to  peo- 
ple? 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  shall  introduce  myself. 

TANYA.     Oh,  but  if  you  get  caught ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'll  have  spread  my  wings  once !  I'll 
have  flown  up  toward  the  sun — once! 

TANYA.  There  never  was  anyone  in  the  world 
like  you,  John  Paul !  (JOHN  PAUL  turns  to  her)  I 
think  you're  wonderful ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  You've  always  been  kind  to  me,  Miss 
Tanya !  Jolly  nice  about  taking  my  part  when  I've 
got  in  wrong  with  your  father.  Won't  you  wish  me 
good  luck  ?  I  think  it  would  be  a  help  to  know  that 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  37 

someone — a  friend — was  wishing  me  luck.  Won't 
you? 

TANYA.  (Ex-tending  her  hand)  I  wish  you  good 
luck  in  everything,  John  Paul. 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  mean  it,  too ;  I  see  it  in  your 
eyes.  I  never  saw  them  shine  so  bright. 

TANYA.     Are  you  really  going  to  do  this  thing? 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  am. 

TANYA.     But  have  you  any  money? 

JOHN  PAUL.    (Lightly)    Not  a  red. 

TANYA.     (Eagerly)     Oh,  let  me  lend  you  some! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Oh,  no! 

TANYA.  Please!  I've  thirty-five  dollars  that  no- 
body knows  about. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Not  for  anything  in  the  world !  If 
I  succeed,  I'll  get  the  money.  If  I  don't  succeed,  it 
won't  matter.  Nothing  will  matter. 

TANYA.    Oh,  but  I'd  like  to  help  you,  John  Paul ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Impulsively)  You  dear,  dear  girl ! 
— don't  worry  about  me.  (Doffing  his  hat  with  a 
grand  bow)  And  now,  Miss  Huber,  I  bid  you  a  very 
good  evening.  You  know  it  would  never  do  to  keep 
all  those  people  waiting. 

(He  goes,  while  the  organ  still  plays  and  TANYA 
stands  looking  after  him  with  a  wistful,  admiring 
glance.) 

CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

SCENE  :  A  reception  room  in  the  palatial  and  newly 
completed  residence  of  MR.  and  MRS.  STANLAW. 
//  is  a  spaciou-s  and  formal  room,  furnished  and 
decorated  in  the  very  best  taste  of  the  very  best 
decorator.  A  baby-grand  piano,  upper  Right, 
a  settee,  Centre,  and  a  small  table  with  chairs 
either  side,  Left,  are  the  principal  furnishings. 
Centre  Back  is  an  imposing  open  stairway;  and 
doors  closed  by  portieres  are  on  either  side, — 
Left,  to  the  entrance  hall,  and  Right,  to  the  din- 
ing-room and  offices.  The  ball-room  is  Right 
Centre,  and  is  approached  by  a  short  flight  of 
stairs,  also  open. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  the  reception  is  well 
under  way,  and  there  are  guests  coming  and 
going,  with  laughter  and  gay  talk. 

MRS.  STANLAW,  near  the  piano,  is  the  gra- 
cious hostess.  Her  manner  is  cultivated,  and 
has  just  a  suggestion  of  snobbishness.  Her 
husband,  who  is  with  another  group,  Left,  is  of 
more  common  mould.  He  is  self-made,  and 
more  at  home  in  his  office  than  his  reception- 
room,  but  he  does  his  bit  conscientiously.  COR- 
INNE,  Right,  is  exceedingly  pretty,  though 
rather  cold,  and  her  manners  are  well-bred.  She 
is  capricious  and  wilful,  accustomed  both  to  flat- 
tery and  obedience.  "BOBBIE"  WESTLAKE  and 
the  other  youths  with  whom  she  is  chatting  are 
38 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  39 

presentable  society  men,  her  willing  slaves.  MR. 
and  MRS.  FITZMORRIS,  the  first  guests  to  be  an- 
nounced by  WHEATING,  the  perfectly  trained 
butler,  are  smart  society  people. 

When  the  curtain  rises  a  man  in  livery  is  car- 
rying a  tray  of  drinks  among  the  guests. 

There  is  music  from  the  ballroom  at  intervals 
throughout  this  act,  but  it  is  never  obtrusive. 

WHEATING.  (Announcing)  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fitz- 
morris ! 

(MR.  and  MRS.  FITZMORRIS  enter  and  WHEATING 
exits.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  My  dear,  I  was  so  afraid  you 
weren't  coming! 

FITZMORRIS.     Good  evening,  Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.    Good  evening. 

STANLAW.     Hello,  Fitz!    Welcome,  old  man! 

FITZMORRIS.  Thanks  !  (They  shake  hands)  Glad 
to  be  here,  Stanlaw.  (He  moves  upstage  Left  with 
STANLAW.,) 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.  (To  MRS.  STANLAW  j  It  is 
really  atrocious  of  us  to  be  so  late,  dear,  but  I  had 
given  my  solemn  promise  to  Fanny  Greenway  that  I 
would  sit  in  her  box  for  at  least  two  acts  of  "II 
Trovatore." 

MRS.  STANLAW.  My  dear  Polly,  don't  mention  it. 
I  only  feared  we  might  miss  you  altogether.  How 
was  Caruso? 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.  In  beautiful  voice!  Gear  as 
a  phonograph  record. 

FITZMORRIS.  By  Jove,  Stanlaw,  you've  a  wonder- 
ful house  here,  wonderful ! 

STANLAW.  Like  it,  eh?  Of  course,  everything 
is  very  simple — but  that  is  our  ideal  of  a  home. 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.    I  know  it.    And  such  a  beau- 


40  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

tiful  ideal,  too.  Oh,  but  there's  my  darling  Corinne. 
(Going  to  her)  Good  evening,  Corinne  dear !  How 
adorable  you  do  look  to-night. 

(MRS.  STANLAW  moves  over  Left  Centre  and  con- 
verses in  an  undertone  with  FITZ MORRIS  and 
STANLAW.  ) 

WESTLAKE.     Doesn't  she? 

CORINNE.  I  don't  feel  at  all  adorable,  Mrs.  Fitz- 
morris.  You  know  Mr.  Carroll  and  Mr.  Westlake, 
don't  you?  Pardon  me  a  moment.  (Leaving  the 
group,  she  goes  to  her  mother,  and  says  abruptly) 
Mother,  I  think  it's  a  perfectly  ridiculous  idea  to 
have  these  horrid  men  walking  about  with  trays  of 
drinks  serving  the  guests. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  You're  right,  Corinne:  it's 
ghastly !  The  caterer's  to  blame.  They're  his  men. 

(PETER,  dressed  in  livery  and  carrying  a  tray  of 
drinks,  enters,  Left.  His  eccentricities  are  em- 
phasized by  his  costume.) 

CORINNE.  Well,  the  caterer  should  know  better. 
Do  speak  to  Father  about  it,  please ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.    Yes,  dear,  at  once. 

PETER.  (To  MRS.  STANLAW,  extending  the  tray 
toward  her)  Drink,  lady? 

fCoRiNNE,   with   an   impatient   exclamation,  joins 
group  at  piano.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (To  PETER,)  What  are  you  do- 
ing? 

PETER.     Fetchin*  drinks  around. 

MRS.  STANLAW.    Who  told  you  to  do  that? 

PETER.    Mr.  de  Corville,  the  man  that  hired  me. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  41 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Doesn't  Mr.  de  Corville  know 
enough  to  fill  the  punch  bowl? 

PETER.  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  that;  I'm 
only  hired  by  the  night. 

STANLAW.  (To  his  wife)  Don't  blame  the  ca- 
terer, it's  really  my  fault.  That  was  my  idea. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Mark,  you're  utterly  hopeless! 

(Annoyed  but  helpless,  she  joins  CORINNE  at  the 
piano.) 

STANLAW.  (To  PETERJ  Give  us  a  look,  boy. 
What  you  got? 

PETER.     Cocktails,  rickies,  Scotch  and  soda. 

STANLAW.     Where's  the  champagne? 

PETER.     Comes  next  time. 

STANLAW.  Why  not  all  the  time?  Aren't  we 
able  to  afford  champagne  in  this  house? 

PETER.  Don't  know  nothin'  about  that ;  I'm  only 
hired  in  by  the  evenin'. 

STANLAW.  Well,  after  this,  make  it  champagne 
and  nothing  but  champagne,  understand? 

PETER.    Aye ! 

STANLAW.     Have  a  little  cocktail,  Fitzmorris? 

FITZMORRIS.     I'll  be  very  glad  to  get  it. 

(Both  take  cocktails  from  the  tray,  drink,  and  put 
the  glasses  on  the  piano.     PETER  exits  Right.) 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.     Oh,  music !    A  one-step ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Corinne,  dear,  you  had  better 
go  to  the  ballroom ;  they're  beginning. 

CORINNE.  Yes,  come  along!  (She  urges  the 
couples  to  go,  and  finally  goes  herself  with  WEST- 

LAKEj 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.     Oh,  lovely !     (To  her  hus- 
band)   Come,  Dick! 
CORINNE.    But  won't  you  come,  too,  Mother? 


42  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Not  yet,  dear.  Your  Father 
and  I  must  stay  on  duty  a  little  longer;  there  may 
still  be  a  few  stragglers. 

MRS.  FITZMORRIS.  Very  well.  Come  along, 
Dick,  that  music  goes  to  my  feet. 

(The  guests  have  all  left  for  the  ball-room,  and  MR. 
and  MRS.  STANLAW  are  alone  in  the  reception 
room.) 

WHEATING.  (Enters  and  announces)  Mr.  John 
Paul  Bart ! 

(JOHN  PAUL  a.?  he  enters,  has  indeed  the  real  thing 
in  manner  as  well  as  in  clothes.  But  we  who 
know  him  and  are  eager  for  his  success,  are 
always  conscious  of  the  tension  underneath,  and 
of  his  determination  to  stake  every  thing  on  this 
one  big  chance.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Bowing  to  STANLAW,)  Good  eve- 
ning! 

STANLAW.     Good  evening! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Bowing  to  MRS.  STANLAW  J  Good 
evening ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Good  evening! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Hearing  the  music,  he  points  Right) 
Is  that  the  way  to  the  ball  room  ? 

MR.  and  MRS.  STANLAW.     Yes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (To  MRS.  STANLAW,)  Thank  you. 
(Turning  to  STANLAW )  Thank  you.  (He  smiles 
and  saunters  off  to  the  ball-room) 

STANLAW.     Who  is  that  young  man? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  didn't  catch  the  name.  Don't 
you  know  him? 

STANLAW.     I  never  saw  him  before  in  my  life. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     He's  a  stranger  to  me. 

STANLAW.     That's  funny !    (He  moves  above  the 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  43 

piano  and  stands  looking  at  JOHN  PAUL'S  retreating 
figure) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Also  looking  after  JOHN  PAULJ 
He's  most  likely  someone  Corinne  invited. 

STANLAW.  Yes,  probably  one  of  those  polo  play- 
ers she  got  acquainted  with  last  summer. 

WHEATING.     (Announcing)    Mr.  Rowlands! 

('ROWLANDS  enters.) 

ROWLANDS.  (Bowing  to  MRS.  STANLAW)  Good 
evening,  Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Good  evening.  (Bowing  coolly 
and  sitting  downstage  Right) 

ROWLANDS.     Mr.  Stanlaw,  how  are  you? 

STANLAW.  Fine,  thank  you,  Mr.  Rowlands. 
How's  yourself  ? 

ROWLANDS.  Very  well,  thank  you.  Mrs.  Stan- 
law,  I  want  to  tell  you  how  much  I  appreciated  being 
allowed  to  look  in  at  your  reception.  I  hope  I  can 
work  up  an  article  that  will  give  you  real  satisfac- 
tion. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  am  not  a  believer  in  publicity, 
Mr.  Rowlands,  but  if  we  must  be  in  the  papers,  why, 
I  suppose  you  are  the  man  to  do  it.  Mark,  give  Mr. 
Rowlands  his  facts  and  figures. 

STANLAW.  Well,  in  the  first  place,  we  estimate 
the  cost  of  the  house  to  be  about  a  million. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Quite  crisply,  to  ROWLANDS) 
But  don't  dwell  on  it.  Don't  be  bourgeois  about  it. 

ROWLANDS.     I  understand;  just  a  reference. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  And,  Mark,  tell  Mr.  Rowlands 
who's  here. 

STANLAW.     Oh,  just  a  few  friends. 

ROWLANDS.     Including  Mr.  Nathan,  of  course. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Oh,  I  must  tell  you!  Such  a 
disappointment!  He  just  sent  word.  At  the  last 


44  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

moment  there  was  a  very  important  Directors'  meet- 
ing. 

STANLAW.  Yes,  and  I  should  have  been  there 
myself,  being  a  Director,  only  I  couldn't  leave  the 
party. 

(CORINNE  enters  from  the  ball-room  with  BOBBY 
WESTLAKE,  who  joins  the  men,  up  Left,  while 
she  goes  directly  to  her  mother.) 

CORINNE.     Well,  really,  Mother! 

MRS.  STANLAW.    What  is  it,  dear? 

CORINNE.  (Irritably)  I  didn't  know  you'd  in- 
vited Kitty  Dupuy. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  had  to,  dear.  Didn't  you  ever 
hear  what  a  friend  she  used  to  be  of  President 
Nathan?  Those  things  have  to  be  thought  of. 

CORINNE.     Yes,  and  Bessie  with  her,  of  course! 

fMRS.  KITTY  DUPUY  enters  from  the  ball-room. 
She  is  a  luscious  divorcee,  ready  to  use  her 
charm  in  any  good  cause,  and  full  of  fun, 
withal.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.    Has  anyone  seen  dear  Bobby  West- 
lake? 
WESTLAKE.    (Fairly  caught)     Oh ! 

('CORINNE  tosses  her  head  with  a  "What  did  I  tell 
you"  gesture.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (As  she  rises,  the  perfect  host- 
ess) Ah,  Kitty ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Oh,  there  you  are,  you  bad,  dread- 
ful boy,  you ! 

WESTLAKE.  (Hedging)  Why,  Mrs.  Dupuy, 
dreadful  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  45 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Whatever  did  you  mean  by  cutting 
your  first  dance  with  my  little  Bessie  ? 

WESTLAKE.     Oh,  did  I?    I'm  sorry. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  That's  easy  to  say,  but  you  don't 
realize  what  such  an  oversight  means  to  a  fragile, 
sensitive  young  girl. 

(BESSIE  DUPUY  enters  Right, — a  carefully-drilled, 
buxom  and  naive  girl.) 

BESSIE.     Mother ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Bessie  love,  come  to  mother.  Mr. 
Westlake  feels  so  mortified  over  his  little  blunder, 
and  he  begs  you  to  have  the  next  dance  with  him. 
There's  the  music !  (She  propels  them  toward  the 
ball-room,  BESSIE  doing  her  full  share,  and  WEST- 
LAKE  holding  back  but  going  perforce)  Now 
run  along !  Be  off  with  you  !  Bobby,  dear,  be  very 
gentle  with  my  little  windflower. 

WESTLAKE.     (Hopelessly)     I'll  try! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  How  they  love  it,  these  young- 
sters !  Youth  is  so  wonderful !  (To  MRS.  STAN- 
LA  wj  We  mothers  know  what  it  is  to  have  an  only 
child! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (With  cutting  sarcasm)  Yes, 
dear,  but  I  thought  you  had  a  boy,  too  ? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Yes,  there  was  a  boy,  but  the 
father  got  the  custody. 

WHEATING.     (Announcing)    Mr.  Jellicot! 

(JELLICOT  is  an  effervescent,  innocuous  yachtsman 
of  perhaps  thirty-five.  He  has  a  comic  person- 
ality, and  an  assumption  of  British  manners. 
He  is  acutely  conscious  that  his  clothes  are  an 
absurd  misfit,  and  the  fact  constantly  agitates 
him.) 


46  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JELLICOT.  (Nervous  and  excited)  Good  eve- 
ning, everybody ! 

ALL.    Why,  Mr.  Jellicot ! 

JELLICOT.  Mrs.  Stanlaw,  can  you  ever  forgive 
me  for  coming  at  such  an  hour?  I'm  so  upset  and 
all,  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  upon  my  word,  I 
don't ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Why,  whatever  can  be  the 
trouble  ? 

JELLICOT.  The  tailor  ran  away  with  my  evening 
clothes!  (To  CORINNE  as  all  laugh)  I  say,  don't 
look  at  these!  I  know  they're  a  mile  out!  Bor- 
rowed, you  know. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Why,  Mr.  Jellicot,  they  look 
perfectly  charming ! 

JELLICOT.     Really ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Teddy  Jellicot,  you  would  be 
charming  in  anything! 

JELLICOT.  Hello,  Mrs.  Kitty  Dupuy!  Oh,  I 
say  now,  you  know ! 

ROWLANDS.  But  haven't  you  got  any  trace  of 
the  runaway  tailor,  Mr.  Jellicot? 

JELLICOT.  Gad,  no,  I  wouldn't  stop  for  that  to- 
night. (To  MRS.  STANLAW,)  I  was  bound  to  come 
to  your  party  to-night,  Mrs.  Stanlaw,  if  I  died  in 
the  act.  I'm  so  anxious  to  meet  the  great  Nathan. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,  Mr.  Jellicot! 
At  the  last  minute  there  was  a  very  important  Direc- 
tors' meeting. 

JELLICOT.  (Wholly  dismayed)  Good  God !  Then 
Nathan's  not  here ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  No.  It's  such  a  disappointment 
to  all  of  us. 

JELLICOT.  Oh,  dear  me!  Oh,  dear  me!  Why, 
I've  been  waiting,  I  don't  know  how  many  months, 
for  the  chance  to  meet  him. 

STANLAW.     Nathan's  a  very  hard  man  to  meet. 

JELLICOT.     (Earnestly)     That's   it!     That's   it! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  47 

You  see,  the  one  thing  in  the  world  I  want  is  his 
vote  to  get  me  into  the  Ionian  Yacht  Club. 

STANLAW.  The  Ionian  Yacht  Club?  Can't  be 
done,  Jellicot !  There's  a  waiting  list  as  long  as  that 
ahead  of  you. 

JELLICOT.  But  Nathan's  the  one  man  who  can 
get  me  in.  Once  I  get  at  him,  I  fancy  I  can  swing 
it — for,  you  see,  I  flatter  myself  I  figured  rather 
handsomely  in  a  little  incident  he'll  be  glad  to  have 
recalled  to  his  mind. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Oh,  do  tell  us  about  it ! 

JELLICOT.     Really  want  to  hear  it? 

ALL.  (Ad  lib)  Oh,  yes!  What  is  it,  Teddy? 
Tell  us  about  it ! 

JELLICOT.  Well,  it  was  on  the  day  of  the  Pre- 
paredness Parade 

ROWLANDS.     Yes? 

JELLICOT.  Oh,  but  I  forgot!  You're  a  news- 
paper man. 

ROWLANDS.     No  matter,  you  can  trust  me. 

JELLICOT.  Oh,  can  I?  No,  sir.  I'll  bottle  it 
up.  Never  trust  a  newspaper  man  with  a  good 
story. 

ROWLANDS.     Oh,  I  say  now,  really! 

CORINNE.    Then  come  and  tell  me,  Teddy. 

JELLICOT.  No,  I  won't  tell  anyone  but  Mr. 
Nathan  himself.  But,  I  say,  Corinne,  isn't  that  a 
dance  going  on? 

CORINNE.    Yes. 

JELLICOT.     Well,  have  it  with  me,  will  you? 

CORINNE.     Well 

JELLICOT.     Never  mind  about  these  clothes. 

CORINNE.  (Laughing)  Well,  for  your  sake, 
yes! 

(They  go  to  the  ball-room,  laughing  and  chatting, 
MRS.  STANLAW  following  them  to  the  foot  of 


48  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

the  stairs.     PETER  enters  at  the  same  moment 
carrying  an  empty  tray.) 

STANLAW.'  (To  PETER,  as  he  crosses)  Hi,  there, 
boy,  what  you  doin'  now  ? 

PETER.  (As  he  takes  the  two  empty  glasses  from 
the  piano)  Pickin'  up  the  empties.  (Exits) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Please  don't  put  that  in  your 
article,  Mr.  Rowlands.  The  servant  question  is  im- 
possible. 

ROWLANDS.  I  understand.  And  now,  Mrs.  Stan- 
law,  am  I  to  be  allowed  to  go  over  the  new  house 
with  you  ? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Going  up  the  stairs)  Yes,  I 
think  I  could  be  spared  now.  No  one  is  likely  to 
come  after  this.  fMRS.  STANLAW  up  the  stairs) 
Won't  you  come,  too,  Kitty? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  No,  thank  you,  dear,  I  think  I 
had  better  stay  here  and  keep  a  wee  bit  of  a  look-out 
over  my  little  Bessie. 

STANLAW.  (As  he  follows  her  with  ROWLANDS,) 
Of  course,  everything  is  very,  very  simple,  but  that 
is  our  ideal  of  a  home. 

(JOHN  PAUL  enters  from  the  ball-room  between  two 
girls.  They  are  laughing  and  chatting  as  they 
go  to  the  main  stairxvay.) 

GIRL.  (On  the  stairs)  We're  going  to  look  over 
the  house.  Won't  you  come,  too,  Mr.  Bart? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'd  be  delighted.  (Seeing  MRS. 
Dupuvj  I'll  follow  you  in  a  moment,  if  you'll 
excuse  me. 

GIRLS.  Certainly!  (They  go  up  the  stairs  and 
off-) 

(JOHN  PAUL  realizes  that  MRS.  DUPUY,  who  is  stand- 
ing near  the  stairs,  must  be  his.  next  conquest, 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  49 

and  he  comes  a  little  nearer.  She  sees  him, 
smiles  slightly,  and — very  slowly — starts  up- 
stairs.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Forgive  me!  (MRS.  DUPUY  turns 
to  him)  I  wonder  if  you  could  tell  me  the  name  of 
that  lovely  bit  of  music  they're  playing-. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  The  name  ?  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry ! 
All  I  know  is  that  it's  strangely  beautiful ! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Ah,  you  love  music,  too ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Love  it !     I  adore  it ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Let  me  see,  what  is  it  Shakespeare 
says  about  music?  "The  man " 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Interrupting)  Yes,  yes,  I  know  ! 
It's  so  beautiful !  Shakespeare  did  understand ! 
(Dropping  her  fan) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Restoring  the  fan  to  her  with  a 
gallant  bow)  Permettez,  Madame!  Voila! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Merci,  monsieur !  Mais  vous  etes, 
charmant !  (She  opens  the  fan  and  waves  it  lan- 
guidly) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  expressive  and  eager  ges- 
ture) Ah,  just  like  that !  Don't  move !  You  make 
the  picture  perfect !  A  Watteau ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Laughing  delightedly)  You  flat- 
terer !  (She  sits  on  the  sofa) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Sitting  beside  her,  Right)  May  I 
sit  here? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (With  delight)  You're  perfectly 
outrageous !  We  haven't  been  introduced. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Couldn't  we  waive  the  formalities 
this  once  ?  This  is  so  nice  ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  It's  against  my  principles 

(Looking  at  him  and  smiling)  But  no  matter — this 
once.  I  am  Mrs.  Dupuy. 

JOHN  PAUL.  My  dear  lady,  as  if  you  needed  to 
tell  me!  Why,  who  could  you  be  but  Mrs.  Dupuy? 

MRS.    DUPUY.     (Laughing   delightedly)     You're 


50  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

really  delightful !    (A  slight  pause)    But — but  you? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (As  if  surprised,  and  just  a  little 
shocked)  Oh,  I  see!  You  don't  recognize  me? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Embarrassed)  I  know  it's  stupid 
of  me !  Of  course  I  ought  to,  but  my  memory  is  so 
treacherous  sometimes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  a  cool  smile)  I'll  give  you 
three  guesses. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Earnestly)  No,  no,  you  must 
just  be  charming  and  tell  me  right  out. 

JOHN  PAUL.  As  you  prefer.  (Quietly)  I  am 
John  Paul  Bart. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Absolutely  at  a  loss,  but  with  a 
desperate  effort  to  appear  properly  intelligent) 
Oh!— not  really !— Well,  this  is  delightful !— Of 
course  I've  heard  of  you  so  often — and  wanted  to 
meet  you,  too,  but  somehow  or  other 

WHEATING.  (Announcing)  Mr.  Abraham  Na- 
than! 

^ABRAHAM  NATHAN  is  a  distinguished  and  authori- 
tative financier,  of  the  Jewish  race.  He  has 
courtly  manners,  and  he  is  both  large-minded 
and  sincere.  As  NATHAN  enters,  JOHN  PAUL 
rises,  and  stands  watching  him,  waiting  for  his 
chance.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.    Why,  Abraham  Nathan,  it's  you! 

NATHAN.  (With  courtly  grace)  Kitty  Dupuy! 
This  is  most  unexpected  and  most  delightful ! 
(Kissing  her  extended  hand) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Making  room  for  him  on  the 
sofa)  Do  sit  down!  ('NATHAN  obeys)  But  they 
said  you  weren't  coming. 

NATHAN.  I  expected  to  be  kept  until  midnight 
by  my  Directors,  but  we  finally  adjourned  until  the 
morning. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     It  isn't  another  strike? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  51 

NATHAN.    Not  yet.    At  least  not  when  I  left. 

MRS.  DUPUY.    You  poor  dear  soul! 

NATHAN.  I  appreciate  the  kind  words,  Kitty. 
One  gets  so  little  but  abuse  these  days. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yet  abuse  is  one  expression  of 
envy. 

NATHAN.  (Surprised  at  the  interruption)  I  beg 
pardon. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  I  beg  yours,  Mr.  Nathan.  I 
see  you  don't  remember  me. 

NATHAN.     (Coolly)    Sorry — but  I  meet  so  many. 

(Turning  again  to  MRS.  DUPUYJ     You  see,  Kitty, 
j 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Interrupting)  Then  you'll  not  be 
offended  if  I  remind  you  of  a  little  incident  that  oc- 
curred when  you  were  leaving  the  Reviewing  Stand 
with  the  Governor  the  day  of  the  Preparedness 
Parade.  A  crack-brained  laborer  threw  a  stone  at 
your  head.  Do  you  recall? 

NATHAN.  (Graciously,  as  he  comes  toward  JOHN 
PAUL,)  To  be  sure  I  recall.  A  gentleman  standing 
near  me  caught  the  stone  in  his  silk  hat. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  an  air  of  extreme  modesty) 
It  was  only  a  slight  service,  I  know,  but  you  were  so 
good  as  to  insist  that  the  gentleman  in  question 
should  not  allow  you  to  forget. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (With  enthusiasm)  Oh,  and  now 
you  meet  again  !  How  perfectly  thrilling ! 

NATHAN.  Why,  this  is  indeed  a  fortunate  meet- 
ing! (Shaking  hands  heartily  with  JOHN  PAUL) 
Young  man,  I  firmly  believe  you  saved  my  life! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Seeming  quite  overwhelmed)  Oh, 
no,  I  really  can't  let  you  say  that !  I'm  quite  sure  I 
didn't  save  your  life ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Coming  between  the  two  men) 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  modesty? 

NATHAN.     I'm  sorry  I  forgot  to  keep  in  touch 


52  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

with  you.  You  must  forgive  me.  My  life  is  such  a 
busy  one.  Did  you  give  your  name? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  did  not. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Then  let  me  introduce  you. 
Abram,  I  want  to  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr. 
John  Paul  Bart. 

NATHAN.  I  am  very  glad  to  know  you,  Mr. 
Bart. 

('NATHAN  is  again  shaking  hands  heartily  with  JOHN 
PAUL  when  MR.  STANLAW  enters  by  the  main 
stairway,  his  wife  following.) 

STANLAW.     There  he  is. 

NATHAN.     Good  evening,  Stanlaw! 

STANLAW.     How  are  you,  Nathan? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Wheating  just  brought  us  word. 
I  feel  excessively  mortified  not  to  have  been  here 
to  receive  you. 

(MRS.  DUPUY  moves  up  Right,  crosses  and  works 
dozvn  stage  L.  JOHN  PAUL  has  turned  Right  as 
the  STANLAWS  enter.) 

NATHAN.  Don't  mention  it,  Mrs.  Stanlaw.  The 
fault  was  mine,  wholly.  Stanlaw,  we  missed  you  at 
the  Directors'  meeting  this  evening. 

STANLAW.  Well,  you  see  how  it  was,  Nathan. 
I  was  tied  up  with  this  darned  old  reception. 

NATHAN.  You're  exonerated.  '  But  don't  fail  us 
to-morrow;  we  face  a  crisis.  You  will  forgive  me, 
Mrs.  Stanlaw,  if  I  make  my  visit  a  brief  one? 

MRS.  STANLAW.    Why,  of  course ! 

NATHAN.  There's  Mr.  Bart  waiting  to  say  good 
evening  to  you.  (He  leaves  her  and  converses  with 
MRS.  DUPUY  and  STANLAW,) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (To  JOHN  PAUL,  a  little  pus- 
sled)  Good  evening! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  53 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good  evening,  Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     The  name  was ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Bart.    John  Paul  Bart. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Bart?  Odd!  I  don't  seem  to 
remember 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Quickly)  I  must  offer  my  apolo- 
gies, Mrs.  Stanlaw,  for  coming  without  an  invita- 
tion  

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Interrupting)  Say  no  more 
about  it.  You're  a  friend  of  President  Nathan? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Our  friendship  is  recent,  but  al- 
ready it's  quite  the  biggest  thing  in  my  life. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     I  love  to  hear  you  say  that. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Going  up  the  main  staircase,  fol- 
lowed by  NATHAN  and  STANLAW,)  Mr.  Stanlaw  is 
going  to  show  us  all  over  the  new  house.  You'll 
come,  too,  dear? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Not  this  time,  Kitty.  I'm  going 
to  stay  here  and  have  a  little  chat  with  Mr.  Bart. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Oh!  I  understand!  (Continuing 
up  the  stairs)  Come,  Abram ! 

STANLAW.  (Following  MRS.  DUPUY )  Of  course 
everything  is  very,  very  simple,  but  that  is  our  ideal 
of  a  home. 

(The  three  exit.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (As  she  sits  on  the  sofa)  Sit 
down,  Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Sitting  Right  of  her)  A  very 
wonderful  reception,  Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Thank  you!  (A  slight  pause) 
Are  you  associated  with  Mr.  Nathan  in  a  business 
way? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Not  yet ;  but  I  expect  to  be. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     How  interesting! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (A  little  anxious,  as  he  glances 
around)  This  is  confidential. 


54  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Oh,  of  course !  (A  slight  pause) 
And  do  you  live  in  the  neighborhood  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Singular  thing  about  that!  I 
quitted  my  old  lodgings  this  very  afternoon.  They 
had  become  impossible.  I  shall  try  hotel  life  for  a 
while. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  should  think  you  would  prefer 
one  of  your  clubs. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I've  little  use  for  clubs.  There's 
only  one  club  where  I  really  drop  in  often — the 
Knickerbocker. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  The  Knickerbocker?  Well! 
Tell  me  more  about  yourself.  I  wonder  what  friends 
we  have  in  common. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Of  course  there's  Kitty  Dupuy. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Poor  Kitty ! 

(JOHN  PAUL  is  at  first  puzzled  by  her  patronising 
tone  and  laugh,  but  he  soon  takes  the  cue,  and 
laughs  as  heartily  as  she  does.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.    And  who  else? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Let  me  see!  (Slight  pause)  Do 
you  know  Mr.  Huber? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Trying  to  recall  the  name) 
Huber?  Huber?  No! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Too  bad!    Nice  fellow,  Huber! 

MRS.  STANLAW.    Tell  me  about  him. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Between  ourselves,  Mrs.  Stanlaw, 
I've  never  known  anyone  with  Mr.  Huber's  skill  at 
measuring  men. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  A  rare  gift,  Mr.  Bart.  I  con- 
stantly impress  the  importance  of  it  on  Corinne. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Ah!    Corinne! 

MRS.  STANLAW.    You've  met  her? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Not  yet,  but  I'm  most  anxious  to 
do  so. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     (Sincerely)     And  I  am  most 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  55 

anxious  that  you  should.  There  are  too  many  frivo- 
lous young  men  dancing  attendance  on  her  merely 
because  she  happens  to  be  an  heiress.  That  is  one 
of  the  problems  we  mothers  have  to  face.  (During 
this  speech  to  which  JOHN  PAUL  has  listened  with 
sympathetic  understanding,  CORINNE  has  come  down 
the  big  staircase  accompanied  by  four  boys,  WEST- 
LAKE,  CRANE,  CARROLL  and  FLEMING.  They  are  all 
singing  as  they  enter,  and  they  go  at  once  to 
the  piano,  CORINNE  playing  softly  the  song  that  they 
have  been  singing)  Oh,  here  she  is  now.  I'll  in- 
troduce you.  Corinne,  dear,  Corinne! 

CORINNE.     Yes,  Mother? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  want  you  to  meet  Mr.  John 
Paul  Bart.  Mr.  Bart,  my  daughter  Corinne. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  a  profound  bow)  Miss 
Stanlaw,  this  is  a  moment  I  have  long  anticipated. 

CORINNE.     (Coolly)     Thank  you. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  We  were  just  talking  about  you 
when  you  came  in.  Mr.  Bart  is  one  of  President 
Nathan's  friends. 

CORINNE.     (Interested)    Oh! 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  were  just  going  to  play  some- 
thing, Miss  Stanlaw.  May  I  listen,  too? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Yes,  do  play  something  for  Mr. 
Bart,  dear.  (To  JOHN  PAUL,  as  CORINNE  sits  at 
the  piano)  Corinne  studied  for  two  years  with 
Petroskowski. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Delightful!  (Doing  the  best  he 
can)  Petro — skowski ! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  If  you  will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Bart, 
I  really  must  look  after  my  guests. 

WESTLAKE.     Now  get  it  right,  Corinne. 

CARROLL.     Oh,  keep  quiet! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Oh,  Mr.  Bart,  let  me  introduce 
Mr.  Crane,  Mr.  Carroll,  Mr.  Fleming  and  Mr.  West- 
lake.  (The  men  acknowledge  the  introduction) 

WESTLAKE.    How  do  you  do? 


56  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.  Charmed!  Oh,  Mrs.  Stanlaw, 
didn't  you  say  you  were  going  to  ask  these  gentlemen 
to  assist  you  in  the  dining  room? 

(The  four  BOYS  glare  at  BART.J 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Laughing  and  quick  to  take 
the  hint)  Oh !  Why,  to  be  sure,  Mr.  Bart !  Our 
servants  are  so  hopeless  to-night,  I've  decided  to  im- 
press some  of  you  boys  into  service.  Now  run  along. 
Come,  Howard !  Dick !  And  Bobby,  you  too !  Run 
along ! 

WESTLAKE.     I  don't  understand. 

CARROLL.  Good  little  boys  don't  ask  questions; 
they  do  as  they're  told. 

(The  boys  go  to  dining-room,  very  unwillingly,  and 
MRS.  STANLAW  follows.  CORINNE  rises  and 
starts  to  join  them.) 

CORINNE.     But,  Mother! 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Corinne !    It's  all  right ! 

CORINNE.  What  in  the  world  are  you  thinking 
of? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (At  the  door  sweetly,  but  firmly) 
Dearie! 

CORINNE.     (Vexed)    Oh ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  really  mustn't  expect  any  sym- 
pathy from  me,  Miss  Stanlaw,  for  the  fact  is  I  was 
pining  for  a  chance  to  have  a  little  visit  with  you 
tete-a-tete.  (CORINNE  tosses  her  head)  Ah,  Miss 
Stanlaw,  don't  move !  With  your  head  at  just  that 
angle  you  are  perfect !  A  Chase ! 

CORINNE.  (Bitingly,  as  she  sits  at  the  piano)  Do 
you  make  a  specialty  of  pretty  speeches  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Leaning  across  the  piano  and  gas- 
ing  at  her)  I  only  wish  I  did,  for  then  I  might  find 
one  that  would  fit  you. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  $7 

CORINNE.     Oh,  I  see !    I'm  hard  to  fit ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  A  beautiful  picture  should  be 
framed  with  care. 

CORINNE.     You  don't  waste  any  time,  do  you? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I've  no  time  to  waste. 

CORINNE.     Meaning? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Meaning  that  with  me  it's  now — 01 
never. 

CORINNE.     You  don't  say  so ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Opportunity  knocks  once  on  every 
man's  door.  To-night  it  knocked  on  mine. 

CORINNE.  (Laughing)  I  don't  know  just  what 
you're  talking  about,  but  I'm  listening. 

JOHN  PAUL.  At  least  I  feel  flattered  by  your  in- 
terest. 

CORINNE.  Do  you  ?  Well,  I  didn't  say  I  was  in- 
terested. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Ah,  but  you  will  be ! 

CORINNE.     My,  how  sure  of  ourselves  we  are ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Do  play  something,  Miss  Stanlaw. 
('CORINNE  plays)  What  a  beautiful  melody ! 

CORINNE.     Do  you  mean  it? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  do,  really.     By  what  composer? 

CORINNE.  Oh,  you  flatter  me,  Mr.  Bart.  It's 
just  a  little  something  of  my  own.  Pretty? 

JOHN  PAUL.     You  are,  indeed ! 

CORINNE.     (Laughing)     I  mean  the  melody. 

JOHN  PAUL.     The  most  beautiful  I  ever  heard. 

CORINNE.  (As  she  stops  playing)  You're  a  mu- 
sician? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  wish  I  were;  I'd  answer  that  glo- 
rious melody  with  another. 

CORINNE.     I  see!    You're  a  poet. 

JOHN  PAUL.     What  makes  you  say  that? 

CORINNE.  Well,  you're  some  sort  of  a  genius; 
anyone  can  see  that  very  plainly. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Not  anyone.  It  takes  a  genius  to 
know  a  genius. 


58  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

CORINNE.     Oh,  thank  you! 
(MRS.  DUPUY  and  BESSIE  enter  by  main  staircase.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Oh,  Mr.  Bart!  So  sorry  to  in- 
terrupt !  Corinne,  just  a  moment,  if  you  don't  mind, 
dear.  Bessie,  love,  I  want  you  to  meet  Mr.  John 
Paul  Bart. 

BESSIE.     Oh ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Mr.  Bart,  my  little  Bessie.  (BES- 
SIE curtsies) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Miss  Dupuy,  this  is  a  moment  I 
have  long  anticipated.  (CORINNE  pounds  the  keys) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  I  want  you  and  Bessie  to  be 
friends. 

JOHN  PAUL.  In  just  that  attitude,  Miss  Bessie — 
don't  move! — you  are  perfect!  A  Greuze!  ( CO- 
RINNE pounds  the  keys) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (To  BESSIE,)  Tell  Mr.  Bart  you 
have  a  one-step  open  on  your  card  if  he  cares  to 
dance. 

BESSIE.  I  have  a  one-step  open  on  my  card  if 
you  care  to  dance,  Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  should  be  delighted — (CORINNE 
pounds  the  keys) — but  Miss  Stanlaw  has  just  prom- 
ised me  the  next  one-step. 

(CORINNE  stops  playing  and  stares  at  him.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Looking  knowingly  at  BART  and 
CORINNE,)  Oh,  I  see !  (A  bit  embarrassed)  Well, 
then,  perhaps  some  other  time. 

BESSIE.    Yes,  perhaps  some  other  time. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Yes,  perhaps  some  other  time. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (To  BESSIEJ  Tell  Mr.  Bart  you're 
pleased  to  have  met  him. 

BESSIE.     I'm  pleased  to  have  met  you. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     (Prompting  her)    Mr.  Bart. 

BESSIE.    Mr.  Bart. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  59 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  pleasure  is  all  mine,  Miss  Du- 
puy.  I  consider  it  a  privilege,  an  honor,  to  have  made 
the  acquaintance  of  so  exquisite,  so  fascinating  a 
creature  as  you  appear  to  be. 

(  CORINNE  resumes  her  playing  with  emphasis.) 

BESSIE.     (Curtseying)     Thank  you! 
MRS.  DUPUY.     Run  along,  Bessie  love. 
BESSIE.     Yes,  Mamma! 

('BESSIE  goes  to  the  ball-room.    MRS.  DUPUY  follows 
her,  but  turns  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (To  BARTJ  She  is  unusual,  isn't 
she? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Decidedly. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (To  CORINNEJ  So  sorry  to  have 
interrupted ! 

CORINNE.     (Sweetly)     Oh,  don't  mention  it ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Sarcastically)  I  won't — not  to 
a  soul !  I  understand ! 

CCORINNE  turns  and  glares  at  her  as  she  runs  up- 
stairs, laughing  maliciously.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Leaning  on  the  piano)  Nice  girl, 
Kitty. 

CORINNE.  Why  did  you  tell  her  we  were  going  to 
have  the  next  one-step  together. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Well,  aren't  we? 

CORINNE.     It's  the  first  I've  heard  of  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Then,  coming  as  a  surprise,  you'll 
probably  enjoy  it  all  the  more. 

CORINNE.     (Laughing)     You  are  extraordinary! 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  admit  it. 

CORINNE.     (Amused)     Who  are  you,  anyway? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  am  John  Paul  Bart. 


60  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

CORINNE.     And  who  is  John  Paul  Bart? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  am. 

CORINNE.  (Amused)  I  see!  You're  a  man  of 
mystery. 

JOHN  PAUL.     No,  I'm  a  man  of  Destiny. 

CORINNE.  A  man  of  Destiny?  And  do  you 
aspire  to  do  great  things  like  Napoleon? 

JOHN  PAUL.  No;  but  to  do  the  things  Napoleon 
left  undone. 

CORINNE.  I  see !  (Studying  him  for  a  moment) 
Do  you  really  want  the  next  one-step  with  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  thought  it  was  all  arranged. 

CORINNE.  It  is — with  another  partner!  I'll  run 
and  see  if  I  can  beg  off.  Shall  I? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Will  you? 

CORINNE.     I  will.    I'll  be  right  back. 

JOHN  PAUL.    And  I'll  be  right  here. 

(JOHN  PAUL  strolls  about,  smiling  complacently, 
but  not  forgetting  that  his  present  achievements 
are  only  a  beginning.  He  is  arranging  his  cuffs 
and  tie,  when  PETER  enters  from  the  hall,  carry- 
ing a  tray  of  champagne.  He  hesitates  and 
looks  curiously  at  JOHN  PAUL'S  back,  while 
JOHN  PAUL,  wholly  unconscious  of  his  pres- 
ence, eomes  Right  Centre.  PETER  comes  to  the 
front  of  the  settee,  staring  at  JOHN  PAUL,  who 
not  noticing  him,  comes  to  Centre.  JOHN  PAUL 
is  very  near  him  before  he  looks  up,  gives  a 
start,  and  looks  around  as  though  he  would  bolt. 
There  is  a  slight  pause.  Then  JOHN  PAUL 
takes  a  glass  of  champagne  from  the  tray,  hesi- 
tates, smiles  in  a  sickly,  nervous  way,  then  boldly 
takes  a  sip,  and  holds  the  glass  up  to  the  light.) 

PETER.  (Finally  able  to  speak,  as  JOHN  PAUL 
puts  the  glass  again  to  his  lips)  What  the  hell  are 
you  doing  here  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  61 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'm  a  guest  of  the  Stanlaws.  (Tak- 
ing another  sip) 

PETER.  You  can't  get  away  with  it  as  easy  as  all 
that,  Johnny  Paul.  I  want  some  explanations. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Want  some  what? 

PETER.  Where'd  you  get  them  clothes?  (Look- 
ing closely  at  JOHN  PAUL'S  suit)  Why,  those  are 
Mr.  Jellicot's  clothes  as  I  was  workin'  on  this  after- 
noon! And  you  mean  to  tell  me !  Oh,  Lord, 

that's  good!  You  mean  to  tell  me  you're  a  guest 
here? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Ask  anyone. 

PETER.     Know  who  ye  are,  do  they  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  have  never  been  ashamed  of  my 
name. 

PETER.  And  you  told  them  you  was  a  tailor's 
hand? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  saw  no  reason  for  insisting  on 
non-essentials. 

PETER.  Now,  look  here,  Johnny  Paul !  I  don't 
understand  nothin'  about  this,  but  one  thing  I  do 
know  well  and  good  :  I've  got  ye  right  under  my  heel 
like  a  worm  on  the  sidewalk,  and  if  I  want  to 
squash  ye,  I  can !  (And  he  grinds  his  heel  expres- 
sively) 

JOHN  PAUL.  If  I  were  in  your  place  it  seems  to 
me  I'd  look  about  for  some  more  lasting,  more  lucra- 
tive way  of  settling  our  account. 

PETER.    As  what,  for  instance? 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  happen  to  be  in  possession  of  a 
secret.  That  secret  is  of  no  value  if  you  tell  it.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  might  be  of  considerable  value  if 
you  refrain  from  telling  it.  (Taking  another  sip  of 
the  wine)  You  know,  I'd  no  idea  champagne  tasted 
like  that ! 

PETER.  (Sullenly)  So  you  think  I'm  a  man  that 
can  be  bought  off,  do  you? 


62  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Sitting)  Bigger  men  than  you 
are  are  bought  off  every  day  of  the  year. 

PETER.    I'm  goin'  to  tell,  I  am ! 
(PETER   has  started   toward   the   ball-room   as  he 
speaks,  and  JOHN  PAUL  has  risen  hastily.    But 
he  stops  as  he  reaches  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and 
JOHN  PAUL  sits  again  with  a  smile.) 

JOHN  PAUL.    Well,  why  don't  you  go? 

PETER.  (Looking  cautiously  around,  then  coming 
close  to  JOHN  PAUL,)  If  I  was  goin'  to  take  money 
— which  I  don't  think  I  am — I  wouldn't  take  a  cent 
less  than — fifty  dollars. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Staggered)    Fifty  dollars! 

PETER.     Yes,  and  not  a  cent  less. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Coolly)    It's  yours. 

PETER.  Are  ye  tellin'  me  you've  got  fifty  dollars 
in  your  pocket? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'm  not  telling  you  anything,  but  if 
you'll  come  around  again  in  a  little  while  I'll  have 
it  for  you. 

PETER.     How  soon? 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  must  allow  me  a  reasonable 
length  of  time. 

PETER.  Very  well !  If  ye  have  the  money  for 
me  the  next  time  I  come  around  with  the  drinks, 
well  and  good!  But  if  not ! 

(MRS.  STANLAW  and  JELLICOT  enter  from  the  ball- 
room.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  understand  you.  (Putting  his 
glass  on  the  tray  as  MRS.  STANLAW  and  JELLICOT 
approach)  The  champagne  is  exquisite,  Mrs.  Stan- 
law  ;  the  best  I  ever  tasted. 

MRS.  STANLAW.    How  charming  of  you ! 

PETER.  (Offering  MRS.  STANLAW  the  tray) 
Drink,  lady? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  63 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Greatly  vexed)  Oh,  go  away ! 
Oh,  Mr.  Bart,  I  want  you  to  meet  our  friend,  Mr. 
Theodore  Jellicot. 

(PETER  has  reached  the  stairs  going  to  the  ball-room 
when  JOHN  PAUL  and  JELLICOT  bow,  but  he  has 
looked  back  and  seen  the  ill-fitting  clothes,  and 
when  he  hears  the  name,  he  is  tremendously 
amused.  At  his  exclamation,  all  three  look  at 
him.) 

PETER.     Oh,  Lord !    (Exits) 

JELLICOT.  (As  JOHN  PAUL  looks  at  him)  He's 
looking  at  these  clothes.  They're  borrowed,  you 
know. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  The  strangest  thing,  Mr.  Bart! 
The  tailor  ran  away  with  his  evening  clothes. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Laughing)    Well,  well,  well! 

JELLICOT.  (To  JOHN  PAUL,)  Mrs.  Stanlaw  tells 
me  you're  a  great  friend  of  Mr.  Nathan's.  Shake 
hands.  Won't  you  introduce  me  to  him  ?  I've  some- 
thing very  important  I  want  to  say  to  him. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  don't  think  Mr.  Nathan  wished 
any  more  introductions  this  evening. 

JELLICOT.     (To  MRS.  STANLAW )     What's  that? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  suppose  Mr.  Bart  knows. 
You  gentlemen  will  excuse  me? 

JELLICOT.     Of  course! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Certainly! 

(MRS.  STANLAW  goes  to  the  ball-room.) 

JELLICOT.  I  say,  Mr.  Bart,  can't  you  possibly 
arrange  this  introduction? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Sitting  at  the  table,  Left)  I'd  like 
to,  but  Abe  is  really  tired  out  to-night. 

JELLICOT.    Abe! 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  know  we're  being  threatened 
with  another  strike. 


64  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JELLICOT.  Another  strike  in  the  Oceanic  Ship- 
yards ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I'm  sorry  to  have  to  say  so. 

JELLICOT.  I  say,  but  look  here,  Mr.  Bart,  this 
meeting  I'm  after  is  in  a  little  class  all  by  itself,  so 
to  speak,  because,  you  see,  I  flatter  myself  I  figured 
rather  handsomely  in  a  little  incident  he'll  be  glad  to 
have  recalled  to  his  mind. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yes? 

JELLICOT.  It  was  on  the  day  of  the  Prepared- 
ness Parade. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Laughing)  Oh,  surely,  Mr.  Jelli- 
cot,  you're  not  going  to  get  off  that  old  one  about 
catching  the  stone  in  the  silk  hat ! 

JELLICOT.     Well,  what  if  I  was  now? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Man  alive,  that  story  has  been  used 
till  it's  used  up ! 

JELLICOT.     Used!     What  do  you  mean,  used? 

JOHN  PAUL.  That  story  was  told  to  Mr.  Nathan 
in  my  own  presence. 

JELLICOT.     It  was?    By  whom? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  you  that. 

JELLICOT.  But  I  tell  you  it  was  I  caught  that 
stone!  //  /.'  // 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Rising)  My  dear  chap,  don't  get 
excited.  I've  no  doubt  it  was  you,  but  just  look  at  it 
from  a  common-sense  angle.  How  can  you  ex- 
pect Mr.  Nathan  to  take  your  word  for  it  when  he 
has  already  heard  the  same  story  from  another 
man — and  a  very  charming  man,  too? 

JELLICOT.     But  I  tell  you  the  man  is  an  imposter ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  agree  with  you !  I  agree  with  you ! 
But  don't  you  see?  Isn't  it  plain  that  it  would  be 
much  wiser  to  leave  the  whole  matter  in  my  hands  ? 

(PETER  enters  and  comes  toward  them.) 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  65 

JELLICOT.  In  your  hands!  Why,  will  you  help 
me? 

JOHN  PAUL.     That's  what  I'm  proposing  to  do. 

JELLICOT.  (Shaking  hands  with  JOHN  PAUL,) 
Why,  that's  terrifically  jolly  of  you,  old  man ! 
Thanks,  a  thousand  times ! 

PETER.  (Offering  the  tray  to  the  two  men,  com- 
ing between  them)  Drink,  gents? 

JELLICOT.  (Taking  a  glass  from  the  tray) 
Thanks. 

PETER.  (As  he  offers  the  tray  to  JOHN  PAUL,) 
Well? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Taking  a  glass  of  wine)  Ten  min- 
utes. (As  JELLICOT  turns  and  looks  at  him)  I'll 
want  another  drink  in  ten  minutes. 

(PETER  exits.) 

JELLICOT.    I  want  one  every  ten  minutes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Raising  his  glass)  Well,  Jellicot, 
here's  success! 

JELLICOT.  Good  health!  (He  drinks  and  puts 
the  empty  glass  on  piano)  I  say,  do  you  really  think 
you  can  swing  it  for  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Thoughtfully,  as  he  crosses  to 
Right  Center)  I'll  try  and  speak  about  you  at  sup- 
per to-night. 

JELLICOT.  (Following  him)  You're  going  to  have 
supper  with  Nathan  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  was  planning  to  take  him  out  with 
me,  yes.  (Slapping  his  pockets)  Oh,  but,  by  Jove ! 
Well,  well,  well ! 

JELLICOT.    'Why,  what's  wrong? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  nothing!  I'll  take  him  out 
some  other  evening. 

JELLICOT.     Oh,  I  say  now,  what's  wrong? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Would  you  believe  it?    I  actually 


66  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

came  off  to-night  without  a  cent  of  money  in  my 
pocket.  (Laughing) 

JELLICOT.  You  did?  Now  that's  really  comical, 
isn't  it?  Do  you  know,  I  did  the  very  same  thing 
myself !  (Also  laughing) 

JOHN  PAUL.     Oh! 

JELLICOT.  I  was  so  upset  about  that  beastly 
tailor,  you  know !  That's  the  sort  I  am.  You  see, 
things  knock  me  bing,  so  to  speak,  and  digging 
down  in  my  pockets  I  found  there  wasn't  a  red. 
Say,  doesn't  it  give  you  a  damn  silly  feeling? 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Faintly)     Yes,  it  does ! 

JELLICOT.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  if  I  was  only 
in  my  own  clothes  instead  of  these  borrowed  ones, 
I  would  be  terrifically  pleased  to  oblige  you,  old 
chap.  You  may  not  believe  it,  but  in  that  dress 
suit  the  tailor  ran  away  with,  I  had  two  fifty-dollar 
bills  stowed  away  in  this  little  thingamajig  of  a  fob 
pocket. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Where? 

JELLICOT.     This  little  thingamajig  here. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Feeling  in  the  fob  pocket,  and 
finding  the  bills)  You  know,  that's  a  most  remark- 
able coincidence ! 

JELLICOT.     What's  that? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Why,  you've  just  reminded  me !  f 
had  all  I  need  in  my  own  fob  pocket.  Two  fifty- 
dollar  bills.  (Showing  JELLICOT  the  two  bills) 

JELLICOT.    Really ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  If  you  hadn't  mentioned  the  fact 
I'd  never  have  thought  of  looking  there. 

JELLICOT.  Then  you  keep  your  money  in  fhe 
same  pocket  I  do ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  exactly!  In  the  very  same 
pocket ! 

JELLICOT.  By  Jove,  that's  a  coincidence!  You 
know  it  wouldn't  happen  twice  in  a  lifetime. 

JOHN  PAUL.     No,  but  once  is  a  great  help. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  67 

(Both  men  are  laughing  heartily  as  CORINNE  enters 
quickly  from  the  dining  room.) 

CORINNE.  Oh,  Teddy !  Mrs.  Fitzmorris  was  just 
asking  for  you. 

JELLICOT.  Oh,  Lord,  yes,  I  forgot!  She  prom- 
ised to  one-step  with  me.  (Turning  to  JOHN  PAUL) 
You  won't  let  it  slip  your  mind  about  taking  up 
that  matter  with  Nathan,  will  you,  old  boy  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     At  the  very  first  opportunity. 

JELLICOT.  The  ambition  of  my  life  is  to  become 
a  member  of  the  Ionian  Yacht  Club,  and  Nathan's 
the  only  one  who  can  fix  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Leave  it  to  me  and  I'll  bet  you — a 
suit  of  clothes — you  go  through. 

JELLICOT.  A  suit  of  clothes?  You're  on! 
(Shaking  hands  again  with  JOHN  PAUL^ 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  yes,  they're  on ! — I  mean,  you're 
on! 

JELLICOT.  (To  CORINNE^  Where's  Mrs.  Fitz- 
morris— in  the  ball-room? 

CORINNE.     Yes.     She's  looking  for  you. 

JELLICOT.     I'll  find  her.    Bye,  bye.     (Exit) 

CORINNE.  (Turning  to  JOHN  PAUL)  Well,  it's 
fixed.  I  got  rid  of  him. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Who? 

CORINNE.     My  partner. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Oh,  yes,  of  course!    I'd  forgotten. 

CORINNE.    You  had! 

JOHN  PAUL.  No,  no,  I  mean  I  thought  you  had. 
Of  course!  How  silly  of  me!  Come  along! 

(He  offers  his  arm,  but  they  have  barely  started 
when  NATHAN,  STANLAW,  MRS.  DUPUY  and 
BESSIE  enter  from  their  survey  of  the  house.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Really,  Abram,  I  think  it's  quite 
too  horrid  of  you  to  go  so  soon. 


68  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

STANLAW.  That's  what  I  say.  Why  don't  you 
stay  a  while  and  enjoy  yourself?  You  work  too 
darned  hard,  that's  what's  the  matter  with  you, 
Nathan. 

CORINNE.  (Dropping  JOHN  PAUL'S  arm,  and 
going  toward  NATHAN,)  Must  you  really  go,  Mr. 
Nathan  ? 

NATHAN.  I  must.  I'm  sorry.  Being  a  servant 
of  the  public  is  no  joke  these  days.  (L.  of  piano) 

(MRS.  DUPUY  stands  Right  of  Left  table,  BESSIE 
sits  opposite  her.  STANLAW  is  behind  the 
piano.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Turning  toward  NATHAN,)  That 
is  your  own  fault,  sir. 

NATHAN.     (Surprised)     What ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Why,  it's  Mr.  Bart! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Fully  half  the  trouble  could  be  ob- 
viated were  it  not  for  your  notorious  Nathan  policy 
of  treating  the  public  with  silence. 

NATHAN.     Indeed ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  American  public  is  the  most 
good-natured  in  the  world.  It  will  forgive  you  for 
strangling  your  grandmother,  but  it  will  not  forgive 
you  for  being  silent  about  it.  If  you  want  to  live — 
talk! 

NATHAN.  (Coming  nearer  to  JOHN  PAUL,)  I 
did  not  realize  you  were  a  sociologist  as  well  as  a 
life  preserver. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  am  neither.  I  am  a  Scientic  Spe- 
cialist in  Success. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Listen,  Bessie. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  I  have  discovered  that  your 
American  Oceanic  Shipbuilding  Corporation  em- 
bodies every  essential  of  success  save  one — it  ignores 
the  public. 

NATHAN.    Yes,  and  with  reason.    The  public  is 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  69 

not  disposed  to  accept  those  principles  of  manage- 
ment for  which  our  company  stands. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Five  years  ago  it  would  not  have  ac- 
cepted them,  but  to-day  the  public  is  tired  of  its 
old  idols.  It  is  eager  to  listen  to  a  new  gospel.  In 
its  heart  it  has  never  ceased  to  worship  wealth, 
authority,  power.  Very  well,  let  us  preach  the 
Rights  of  Property.  Let  us  boldly  declare  that 
wealth  is  the  basis  and  symbol  of  that  power  which 
keeps  the  wheels  of  the  social  organism  function- 
ally reciprocal. 

(CORINNE,  MRS.  STANLAW  and  WESTLAKE  enter 
from  the  ball-room,  and  MRS.  STANLAW  seats 
herself  on  the  piano-bench.  Other  guests  come 
in  by  the  main  stairway  and  the  other  entrances, 
and  from  this  time  on  through  JOHN  PAUL'S 
long  speech,  they  continue  to  gather  at  intervals 
of  about  ten  seconds.  They  all  listen  intently, 
never  taking  their  eyes  from  his  face,  except  to 
glance  at  each  other.  JELLICOT  is  one  of  the 
first  to  enter  (Right),  and  he  keeps  moving 
nearer  to  JOHN  PAUL  and  NATHAN  as  oppor- 
tunity offers.  MR.  and  MRS.  FITZMORRIS  are 
Left,  and  ROWLANDS  is  on  the  stairs.  Even 
PETER  enters  with  his  tray  at  the  Rub-a-dub 
point,  and  stands  listening  open-mouthed.) 

NATHAN.  (With  cool  surprise)  Functionally 
what? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Reciprocal.  Look  about  you,  my 
friends!  The  agitators  are  appealing  to  the  blind 
and  insensate  ambition  of  the  masses — caring 
nothing  for  consequences,  ready  to  inaugurate  a 
Reign  of  Terror.  And  shall  we,  my  friends,  we 
who  are  the  natural  protectors  and  guardians  of  the 
social  order,  shall  we  submit?  Are  we  to  abandon 
the  ship  to  the  pirates  of  Society  ?  Fellow  citizens, 


70  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

you  fondly  imagine  you  are  living  in  a  Democracy, 
but  I  tell  you  that  unless  we  rally  to  the  defense  of 
our  ancient  prerogatives,  that  Democracy  will  soon 
be  swallowed  up  by  a  Proletariarchy ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.    A  what? 

JOHN  PAUL.     A  Proletariarchy. 

MRS.  DUPUY.    Oh,  how  terrible!    (Sitting.) 

NATHAN.  (Amused)  Can  you  keep  that  up  in- 
definitely ? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Yes. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  It's  wonderful !  Don't  you  think 
so,  Abram? 

NATHAN.  (Amused)  I  do — wonderful  Cock- 
adoodalum. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Blandly)  As  to  that,  sir,  I  quite 
agree  with  you. 

NATHAN.  You  agree  with  me?  (Laughing) 
Well,  well! 

JOHN  PAUL.  But  the  most  wonderful  thing  about 
it  all  is,  it'll  go!  It'll  work;  It'll  do  it  for  you! 
Give  them  a  catchword;  you  win  attention. 
Attention  begets  interest.  Interest  begets  confi- 
dence. Confidence  means  an  end  to  hostility.  Once 
you  have  won  your  public  you  have  won  your  case. 
The  public  breaks  you,  the  public  makes  you.  (With 
dramatic  outburst)  Attention  there,  all  you  who 
have  homes  and  who  love  them !  Property  is  being 
assaulted  before  your  very  eyes !  Our  sacred  rights 
are  in  jeopardy!  Let  us  rally  to  their  defense! 
Who  will  carry  our  standard?  Where  shall  we 
look  for  a  champion  ?  Nathan !  Nathan !  Hurrah  ! 
Rub-a-dub-dub!  Rub-a-dub-dub!  What  do  you 
say,  sir?  Is  there  something  in  it?  Does  it  bite? 
Has  it  got  the  ring?  Will  it  go?  Am  I  right,  sir? 
Am  I  right? 

NATHAN.  (Amused,  yet  genuinely  interested) 
I  half  believe  you  are. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  71 

JOHN  PAUL.  Good !  Very  well !  Then  the  next 
thing  is :  what  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  Here 
am  I,  full  to  the  eyes  with  ideas  the  world  is  hungry 
to  gulp  down !  And  here  are  you,  sir,  confronting 
a  situation  wherein  these  ideas  would  have  an  in- 
calculable dynamic  value.  I  need  you.  You  need 
me.  Then  there  must  certainly  be  some  way  in 
which  we  can  make  connections. 

NATHAN.  You'll  be  telling  me  next  that  you 
have  a  plan  fully  formulated. 

JOHN  PAUL.  No,  no,  one  step  at  a  time.  My 
plan  goes  no  further  than  the  next  step.  We  must 
talk  things  over.  You  may  not  approve  of  me.  I 
may  not  approve  of  you.  Will  you  do  me  the  honor 
to  have  supper  with  me  to-night  at  my  hotel  ? 

NATHAN.     To-night? 

JOHN  PAUL.     To-night. 

NATHAN.     Why,  I  will  be  very  glad  to,  Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  thank  you.  Just  one  thing  more, 
Mr.  Nathan.  You  told  me  a  while  ago  that  if  ever 
you  could  render  me  a  service,  to  command  you. 

NATHAN.    And  I  meant  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Very  well,  sir.  Mr.  Nathan,  may  I 
present  Mr.  Theodore  Jellicot,  a  gentleman  who  is 
desirous  of  becoming  a  member  of  the  Ionian  Yacht 
Club?  Will  you  kindly  see  to  it  that  he  is  highly 
recommended  to  the  Membership  Committee? 
^NATHAN  turns  and  looks  at  JELLICOT,  who  is  fidget- 
ing nervously,  then  turns  a  surprised  look  on  JOHN 
PAULJ  As  a  favor  to  me. 

NATHAN.     (Smiles)    Oh,  very  well. 

JELLICOT.  (Grabs  NATHAN'S  hand)  Thanks,  a 
thousand  times. 

NATHAN.     Thank  your  sponsor,  Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.    He's  already  done  that. 

JELLICOT.     You  win  the  suit,  Mr.  Bart. 

NATHAN.     (Turning    to    MRS.    STANLAW,    who 


72  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

rises)     This  has  been  a  highly  successful  evening, 
Mrs.  Stanlaw,  highly  successful. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (To  MRS.  STANLAW,  exactly  in 
NATHAN'S  manner)  Yes,  this  has  been  a  highly 
successful  evening,  highly  successful!  Boy!  (To 
NATHAN,  as  PETER  comes)  I  had  a  talk  with  this 
young  man  this  evening.  I  find  he  is  ambitious.  I 
believe  in  ambition  and  I  promised  to  help  him. 
(Handing  PETER  one  of  his  fifty-dollar  bills)  Here 
is  a  trifle  of  money  for  you,  my  boy.  Lay  it  by. 
Mr.  Nathan,  I  am  at  your  service. 

(He  takes  NATHAN'S  arm,  and  the  two  proceed  leis- 
urely to  the  door,  Left,  and  exit,  all  the  guests 
watching  them.) 

CURTAIN 


ACT  III 

SCENE:  JOHN  PAUL'S  Office  in  the  American 
Oceanic  Building,  in  the  shipping  district  be- 
low Wall  Street;  a  handsome,  impressive  apart- 
ment furnished  with  dignity. 

Across  the  Left  Upper  corner  is  a  large  bay 
window  with  window-seat  which  affords  a  view 
of  the  roofs  of  office  buildings  and  of  the  blue 
harbor  beyond. 

There  are  three  doors,  Left,  Centre  and 
Right: — Left  to  PRESIDENT  NATHAN'S  Private 
Offices,  Centre  to  the  Stenographic  Rooms,  and 
Right  to  the  Entrance  Hall  and  Street.  JOHN 
PAUL'S  large  desk  is  Left  Centre,  and  a  small 
one  for  his  secretary,  DR.  SONNTAG,  is  against 
the  wall,  Upper  Right.  A  filing  case  is  Left  of 
the  Centre  entrance,  and  a  telephone  and  buzzer 
are  on  JOHN  PAUL'S  desk. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  JOHN  PAUL  is  stand- 
ing Left  Centre  listening  with  amused  attention 
to  MRS.  DUPUY,  who,  with  BESSIE,  is  just  con- 
cluding a  visit.  DR.  SONNTAG  sits  at  his  desk, 
back  to  the  audience,  and  Miss  SHAYNE,  a  ca- 
pable, matter-of-fact  stenographer,  is  working 
at  the  filing  case.  ROWLANDS  is  standing  behind 
JOHN  PAUL'S  desk,  facing  the  audience,  waiting 
for  an  interview.  MRS.  DUPUY'S  voice  is  heard 
as  the  curtain  rises. 

The  time  is  late  afternoon,  nine  months  later. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     — And  now  that  my  errand  is  done 
— (As  she  rises,   BESSIE  following  suit) — I  really 

73 


74  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

must  not  keep  you  another  minute,  such  a  frightfully 
busy  man  as  you  are.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Bart !  Good- 
bye, Mr.  Rowlands.  (Shaking  hands  with  JOHN 
PAULJ  Come,  Bessie  love,  we'll  go  now.  Good-bye ! 
Oh,  but  while  I  think  of  it,  my  dear  Mr.  Bart,  there 
was  just  one  more  thing.  If  you  could  give 
me  that  little  series  of  Intimate  Afternoon  Talks ! 
Of  course,  I'll  have  only  just  the  right  people! 
The  Cortelyears,  the  Fitzmorrises,  the  Stanlaws — 
you  know,  people  one  is  glad  to  have  at  one's  home. 

JOHN  PAUL.     To  be  sure! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Good-bye!  (To  BESSIE,  as  they 
start  Right  again,  JOHN  PAUL  following)  Now, 
dear,  this  time  we  really  must —  •  (To  JOHN  PAULJ 
Oh,  and  for  subjects,  that  is  for  you  to  decide. 
Anything  you  fancied.  You're  always  so  wonderful 
and  inspiring  when  you  talk.  But,  of  course,  being 
Lent  and  all,  if  you  could  give  it  just  a  touch  of 
Uplift? 

(JOHN  PAUL  has  gone  behind  the  DUPUYS  and 
opened  the1  door  into  the  hall.  He  stands  zuait- 
ing  for  them  to  leave  with  polite  impatience. 
ROWLANDS  clears  his  throat.) 

JOHN  PAUL.    Uplift — I  understand. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Still,  one  doesn't  want  too  much 
Uplift,  does  one?  fBART  laughs,  amused)  I  mean, 
not  so  much  as  to  be  made  uncomfortable. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Oh,  certainly  not! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Bessie  love,  we  mustn't  keep  Mr. 
Rowlands  from  his  interview  any  longer.  He's 
simply  glaring  at  us ! 

ROWLANDS.     Oh,  Mrs.  Dupuy,  now  really! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Yes,  you  were!  Bessie,  dear,  I 
hope  you've  noticed  everything  so  you  can  make  a 
nice  entry  in  your  diary.  (At  Left  door)  This  is 
the  door  that  leads  to  Abram  Nathan's  private  of- 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  75 

fice.  (Turning  to  JOHN  PAUL'S  desk)  This  is  the 
desk  where  Mr.  Bart  sits  and  thinks  those  wonder- 
ful thoughts  that  have  set  all  New  York  talking. 
(Sitting  in  JOHN  PAUL'S  chair)  This  is  the  very 
chair  he  sits  in! 

BESSIE.  How  wonderful!  Oh,  Mamma,  ask 
him  if  it's  true  what  we  hear  about  him  and  Corinne 
Stanlaw. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Oh,  yes!    Is  it? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  don't  know  what  you've  heard, 
Madam,  but  I  deny  it. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Quite  right !  Deny  it ;  that  makes 
it  certain.  Come,  Bessie,  dear,  we  must  go  now. 
(Goes  to  BESSIE,)  Say  good-bye  to  Mr.  Bart. 

BESSIE.     (Curtseying)    Good-bye. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     (Prompting  her)     Mr.  Bart. 

BESSIE.     Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good-bye,  Miss  Bessie. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Bart.  Now,  re- 
member, you've  promised?  Faithfully! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Faithfully! 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Good-bye. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good-bye. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (As  she  exits)  Bessie,  love,  wait 
for  Mother. 

('JOHN  PAUL  heaves  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  closes  the 
door.  GRAYSON,  PRESIDENT  NATHAN'S  Secre- 
tary, enters  from  his  Private  Office.) 

GRAYSON.     I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.    What  is  it,  Gray  son? 

GRAYSON.  Mr.  Nathan  wished  me  to  inquire 
whether  you  expected  to  be  here  for  the  rest  of 
the  afternoon. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yes,  and  the  evening,  too. 

GRAYSON.  He  thinks  of  bringing  in  one  or  two 
of  the  directors. 


76  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  see.  (Starting  for  his  desk  as 
GRAYSON  returns  to  NATHAN'S  private  office)  Miss 
Shayne,  will  you  send  for  a  messenger? 

Miss  SHAYNE.    He's  here. 

JOHN  PAUL.  In  just  one  minute,  Mr.  Row- 
lands. 

ROWLANDS.     Certainly. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (He  stands  at  his  desk  correcting 
page  proofs  and  scrawling  his  O.K.  at  the  top  of  each 
page)  Sorry  to  make  you  wait,  but  these  printers' 
proofs  are  overdue. 

ROWLANDS.  Proofs?  Oh,  I  hadn't  heard. 
You're  publishing1  a  book  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  no,  only  a  preface  that  I'm  con- 
tributing to  a  remarkable  volume  by  my  private 
secretary.  You  may  know  him — Dr.  Gustavus 
Sonntag,  one  of  our  most  brilliant  thinkers.  Doc- 
tor, this  is  Mr.  Rowlands. 

ROWLANDS.     Doctor ! 

SONNTAG.     (Grimly)    We  have  met. 

ROWLANDS.     Really?    I  don't  remember. 

SONNTAG.  It  was  you  who  recommended  me  to 
put  the  manuscript  of  my  book  in  the  bureau  drawer. 

ROWLANDS.  Oh,  yes,  that  day  in  the  tailor  shop ! 
But,  Doctor,  you  failed  to  tell  me  that  John  Paul 
Bart  of  the  American  Oceanic  was  going  to  launch 
you  with  a  preface.  That  preface  ought  to  see  you 
25,000  copies  right  off  the  press. 

SONNTAG.  (Surlily)  The  book  is  for  thinkers; 
the  preface  is  for  idiots ! 

ROWLANDS.     I  see! 

SONNTAG.     You  will  like  the  preface. 

ROWLANDS.  Oh!  (He  laughs.  SHAYNE  and 
BART  register  this  with  a  head-shake  and  a  stifled 
laugh) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Handing  an  envelope  to  Miss 
SHAYNEJ  Tell  him  to  take  these  on  the  run.  Now, 
Mr.  Rowlands,  here  we  are. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  77 

ROWLANDS.  Fine!  They  certainly  do  keep  you 
at  it! 

JOHN  PAUL.  It  was  about  those  photographs  for 
your  Sunday  Supplement  article.  I  have  them  here, 

and  I  thought (He  picks  up  several  unmounted 

photographs) 

ROWLANDS.  You  mean  to  say  you  have  those 
photographs  for  me  already? 

(Miss  SHAYNE  re-enters,  carrying  several  letters.) 

Miss  SHAYNE.    Beg  pardon ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yes,  Miss  Shayne? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  — but  if  you  want  to  get  these  let- 
ters off  on  the  next  collection 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  do;  it's  important.  (To  ROW- 
LANDS,) Forgive  me.  Just  one  moment.  (He  signs 
the  letters  and  Miss  SHAYNE  blots  them)  And  I'd 
like  you  to  make  a  note  of  these  speaking  dates, 
Miss  Shayne.  Youngstown  the  7th,  Buffalo  the  I2th, 
the  Civic  Club  banquet,  Harrisburg — well,  you  know, 
they're  all  here.  Jot  them  down. 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I  have. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  give  a  formal  memorandum  to 
Dr.  Sonntag. 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I  did. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Is  there  anything  you  haven't  done, 
Miss  Shayne? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  I  haven't  made  a  copy  of  your  ad- 
dress to  the  Affiliated  Textile  Manufacturers. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  haven't  written  it  yet,  that's  the 
reason. 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I  know  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I'll  have  to  stay  in  the  office  and 
plug  it  out  this  evening.  Will  you  please  send  word 
to  my  man  Pomeroy  and  ask  him  to  bring  me  in  a 
bite  to  eat  by  and  by  ? 


78  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

Miss  SHAYNE.  I  told  him.  (Handing  him  an- 
other letter)  And  here's  another. 

JOHN  PAUL.    What's  that? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  An  invitation  from  Mr.  Jellicot 
asking-  you  to  a  cotillion  aboard  the  new  yacht. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Drop  him  a  line,  please,  declining 
with  a  word  of  thanks. 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I  did. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (To  ROWLANDS,)  Now  for  these 
photographs.  (To  Miss  SHAYNE,  as  the  desk  phone 
rings)  Please  ? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  Yes?  (To  JOHN  PAUL,  after  lis- 
tening a  moment)  Miss  Stanlaw  to  speak  to  you, 
sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Tell  Miss  Stanlaw  I'm  very  busy 
just  at  present,  but  will  look  for  her  at — what  was 
the  hour? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  Five-thirty.  (At  the  phone) 
Mr.  Bart  is  very  busy  just  at  present,  but  will  look 
for  you  at  five-thirty.  (She  listens  a  second,  then 
with  a  dry  chuckle,  hangs  up) 

JOHN  PAUL.     What  did  she  say? 

Miss  SHAYNE.     Nothing ;  she  hung  up. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Fine ! 

Miss  SHAYNE.  Nobody  can  teach  you  anything 
about  the  female  of  the  species !  (And  she  exits  with 
the  letters.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (To  ROWLANDS )  Now  I  want  this 
stuff  railroaded  right  through  the  works.  There's 
not  an  hour  to  lose.  We're  facing  the  biggest  crisis 
we've  ever  faced,  and  this  must  be  before  the  public 
next  Sunday  without  fail.  How  about  it? 

ROWLANDS.  I'm  your  man!  I'll  make  up  the 
story  to-night.  Have  you  got  a  title? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes :  "Abraham  Nathan,  the  Colos- 
sus with  a  Heart." 

ROWLANDS.  That's  the  goods!  Contrast — > 
Drama — Heart  Interest! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  79 

SONNTAG.    Rubbish ! 

ROWLANDS.     I  beg  pardon! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dr.  Sonntag  is  paging  himself. 
( SONNTAG  grunts)  How  many  words  will  you 
have? 

ROWLANDS.     About  six  thousand. 

JOHN  PAUL.  With  the  pictures  that'll  make  two 
articles.  And  look  here!  What  we  want  to  plug 
and  plug  hard  is  this:  Power  and  Heart.  Na- 
poleon of  Organization.  A  Colossus  among  Pyg- 
mies, and  yet  the  heart  of  the  man  simple  and  sweet 

as  a  schoolboy.  Plain  habits;  loves  his  dog 

(Showing  photographs)  There's  his  favorite  dog 
Mathilde,  with  her  puppies — hired  for  the  day.  I 
took  them  down  with  me  last  Sunday  to  his  coun- 
try place.  Loves  his  home — loves  his  family 

(Showing  another  photograph)  There  he  is  with  his 
five  little  grandchildren. 

ROWLANDS.  Simply  oozes!  That'll  go  on  the 
cover.  But,  tell  me,  are  there  really  five  grand- 
children ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  I  may  have  borrowed  a  couple 
of  extras. 

ROWLANDS.  (Laughing)  I  take  off  my  hat  to 
you! 

SONNTAG.  (Sneeringly)  Do!  That's  it!  They're 
all  doing  it! 

ROWLANDS.  You're  right,  Little  Sunshine,  you're 
right ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  there's  Sally  Georgiana  Wash- 
ington Jones,  the  old  Mammy  that  toted  Mrs.  Nathan 
when  she  was  a  baby.  See,  she's  standing  on  the 
steps  of  the  rose-covered  cottage — rose-covered — 
don't  forget  that. 

ROWLANDS.    Rose-covered. 

JOHN  PAUL.  — Mr.  Nathan  built  for  her,  ending 
her  days  in  peace.  Happy  old  face,  what? 


80  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

ROWLANDS.  Is  it  a  fact  that  she  calls  Nathan 
her  little  old  pet  lambkins  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Well,  if  she  doesn't  she  ought  to — 
self-evident  necessity.  (Pressing  buzzer  on  desk) 

And  here's  a  fac-simile  of (He  is  about  to  show 

him  another  photograph,  but  changes  his  mind  and 
hands  them  all  to  him)  No  matter,  they're  all 
labeled  and  you'll  know  how  to  use  them.  (To 
SHAYNE,  who  enters  with  a  large  envelope)  Miss 
Shayne,  will  you  make  a  note  of  these  photographs 
Mr.  Rowlands  is  taking? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  I  did,  and  here's  an  envelope. 
(She  takes  the  photographs  from  ROWLANDS  and 
puts  them  in  the  envelope) 

ROWLANDS.     You're  all  right,  Miss  Efficiency. 

Miss  SHAYNE.    I  know  it. 

ROWLANDS.  Mr.  Bart,  I  certainly  congratulate 
Nathan  on  having  attached  you  to  his  interests. 
Why,  a  year  ago  the  American  Oceanic  was  the 
target  for  every  cheap-jack  mudslinger  in  the  coun- 
try, and  now  see  what  your  publicity  campaign  has 
done.  From  Bangor  to  Seattle  the  American  pub- 
lic is  coming  over  to  you. 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  public  was  ready  to  come  over ; 
it  was  only  waiting  for  the  right  word. 

ROWLANDS.  The  right  word,  yes,  but  what  was 
it?  You  found  it? 

SONNTAG.     (Rising.)    Not  at  all — I  found  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  True !  Dr.  Sonntag  is  referring  to 
his  theories  of  Property. 

ROWLANDS.  Property?  I  see!  Well,  you  may 
have  found  the  word,  Doctor,  but  you  didn't  know 
how  to  say  it. 

SONNTAG.  In  other  words,  I  am  not  a  mega- 
phone nor  a  semaphore  nor  a  lady's  lap  dog ! 

ROWLANDS.     Well,  who  said  you  were? 

SONNTAG.    Oh,  I  see!     You  are  like  the  restl 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  81 

You  think  that  is  the  way  to  win  success!  But 
I  tell  you  a  success  like  that  has  no  foundation — it 
will  crumble  at  a  touch.  And  if  you  don't  believe 
me,  wait  till  the  big  strike  comes ! 

JOHN  PAUL.     The  big  strike  is  not  going  to  come. 

SONNTAG.     Well,  it's  called  for  to-morrow. 

JOHN  PAUL.     So  I  understand. 

SONNTAG.  Yes,  to-morrow!  And  the  fault  is 
yours! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Mine? 

SONNTAG.  Yes!  Have  you  taken  one  of  the 
steps  recommended  in  my  book  to  suppress  the  Pro- 
letariarch?  No!  And  now  comes  the  result! 
Every  shipyard  of  the  American  Oceanic  will  be 
empty  and  idle  to-morrow!  You  wait  and  see! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (As  he  rises  and  goes  to  door  with 
ROWLANDS^  Well,  while  we're  waiting,  Mr.  Row- 
lands, if  you'll  come  with  me  I'd  like  to  show  you  the 
model  of  our  new  shipyard  at  Sandy  Point  below 
Wilmington.  It's  out  here  in  the  engineering  de- 
partment, and  I  believe  there's  a  very  good  story  in 
it  for  you.  Some  innovations  that  are  really  epoch- 
making.  Do  you  know  there's  an  electric  hoist  there 
that  can  actually  lift (They  exit) 

SONNTAG.  (With  a  growl)  Conceited  young  up- 
start ! 

Miss  SHAYNE.  Who's  conceited,  I'd  like  to 
know?  You  shouldn't  talk  like  that,  Dr.  Sonntag. 
Haven't  you  got  a  nice  easy  berth  here  ?  Don't  you 
get  twice  the  salary  you'd  earn  any  other  place? 
Where's  your  kick  ? 

SONNTAG.  Oh,  I  see!  You're  in  love  with  him, 
too! 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I'm  no  such  thing! 

SONNTAG.  It  was  just  the  same  way  with  the 
young  lady  I'm  going  to  marry.  She  was  always 
teasing  me  for  news  of  John  Paul  Bart,  but  I  put  a 


82  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

stop  to  that !    It  disgusts  me  how  you  women  have 
no  perspicacity. 

Miss  SHAYNE.  Is  that  so?  Well,  we  can  tell  a 
man  when  we'  see  one,  anyhow ! 

(As  she  exits,  Centre,  PRESIDENT  NATHAN  enters 
from  his  private  office,  followed  by  MR.  STAN- 
LAW  and  MR.  WHITCOMB,  a  testy  old  gentle- 
man.) 

NATHAN.     Good  afternoon!     Is  Mr.  Bart  here? 

SONNTAG.  No,  President  Nathan.  I'm  sorry, 
sir,  but  Mr.  Bart  has  just  stepped  out  with  that 
newspaper  man.  Is  there  anything  /  can  do  for 
you,  sir? 

NATHAN.  Yes;  find  him  immediately  and  tell 
him  I  want  to  see  him,  here. 

SONNTAG.     Yes,  sir.     (Exits  Right) 

WHITCOMB.  Do  you  actually  intend  to  let  him 
handle  that  workmen's  delegation  this  afternoon  ? 

NATHAN.  (Sitting  Centre  while  STANLAW  seats 
himself  Right)  I  certainly  do  intend  to  let  him 
handle  that  workmen's  delegation  this  afternoon. 

STANLAW.  Well,  I  must  say  it  seems  a  little  ir- 
regular. 

WHITCOMB.  (Testily)  Irregular !  Confound  it, 
it's  preposterous ! 

NATHAN.  Very  well,  Whitcomb,  will  you  han- 
dle it? 

WHITCOMB.    I  ? 

NATHAN.    Yes. 

WHITCOMB.  (Indignantly)  What!  Get  into  a 
free-for-all  fight  with  a  bunch  of  insolent,  pig- 
headed delegates  ?  Well,  I  should  say  not ! 

NATHAN.     But  someone  must  do  it. 

WHITCOMB.  My  advice  is :  post  your  terms  and 
let  them  take  them  or  leave  them ! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  83 

NATHAN.  I  see!  And  suppose  they  won't  take 
them? 

WHITCOMB.     Then  to  the  devil  with  them! 

STANLAW.  You're  wrong,  Whitcomb,  you're 
wrong!  That  kind  of  thing  don't  go  any  longer, 
does  it,  Nathan?  Times  have  changed.  You  can't 
get  away  with  it. 

WHITCOMB.  Why  not?  Don't  we  pay  them 
good  wages  ?  Mighty  good  wages !  (Sitting) 

STANLAW.  But  that  ain't  what  they're  after. 
But  there's  something  else  in  the  air — something 
new.  They've  got — (Appealing  to  NATHAN^ — 
what's  the  word  ? 

NATHAN.     Ideas. 

STANLAW.     Exactly ! 

WHITCOMB.     Oh,  poppycock! 

STANLAW.  And  the  thing's  got  to  be  handled 
accordingly. 

WHITCOMB.  Then  if  you  know  so  darn  much 
about  handling  a  strike  situation,  why  don't  you 
handle  it  yourself? 

STANLAW.  Oh,  no,  that's  just  it!  None  of  us 
old  line  fellows  can  handle  it.  Our  ideas  are 
set.  I  tell  you,  the  man  who  can  handle  this  thing 

is  the  man  with  the (To  NATHAN,)  What  do 

I  mean  ? 

NATHAN.  The  man  with  the  2Oth  Century  imagi- 
nation. 

STANLAW.  That's  it!  Got  to  be  able  to  see 
things. 

WHITCOMB.  Yes,  confound  it,  things  that  ain't 
there. 

NATHAN.  (Rising)  No  things  that  are  there. 
Now  this  boy  has  a  plan ;  he  has  outlined  it  to  me. 

WHITCOMB.     (Testily)    We  all  know  about  that! 

NATHAN.  It  cuts  deep,  I  will  admit,  but  I  firmly 
believe  that  if  we  give  him  a  free  hand,  with  his 
imagination  and  confidence,  he  can  save  us.  One 


84  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

thing  is  sure ;  no  one  else  can  save  us  now.     If  he 
can't,  we're  in  for  it. 

(JOHN  PAUL  enters  Right.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Mr.  Nathan,  Dr.  Sonntag  said  you 
wanted  to  see  me. 

NATHAN.  Yes,  I  do,  Bart.  (Shaking  hands  with 
JOHN  PAULJ  You  know  Mr.  Stanlaw. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (As  he  turns  and  shakes  hands  with 
STANLAW,  who  rises)  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Stan- 
law?  How  is  that  wonderful  daughter  of  yours? 

STANLAW.     Fine!     Fine  as  silk! 

NATHAN.  (To  JOHN  PAUL)  I  want  you  to  meet 
our  senior  director,  Mr.  Ludington  Whitcomb. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Extending  his  hand)  Mr.  Whit- 
comb! 

WHITCOMB.    How  do  you  do  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  This  is  a  moment  I  have  long  antici- 
pated. 

WHITCOMB.  (After  looking  him  over)  Young 
man,  how  old  are  you? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Thirty-three  years,  four  months  and 
two  days. 

WHITCOMB.  (With  a  dry  chuckle)  Well,  you 
do  keep  track  of  figures,  don't  you? 

STANLAW.  Yes.  (To  JOHN  PAULJ  Come  up  and 
see  Corinne,  young  man.  By  Jove,  my  wife  gave  me 
some  telephoning  to  do  and  I'll  be  darned  if  I  can 
remember  what  it's  all  about. 

( STANLAW  exits  Left,  followed  by  WHITCOMB,  as 
SONNTAG  enters  Right.) 

SONNTAG.  The  Committee  from  the  Working- 
men's  Council  is  waiting  downstairs  in  the  main 
office. 

NATHAN.  Show  them  in  here — (SONNTAG  looks 
surprised)  To  Mr.  Bart's  office. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  85 

SONNTAG.     Here ! 

NATHAN.     If  you  please. 

SONNTAG.     Yes,  sir.    (Exits) 

NATHAN.  Yes,  Bart,  I'm  going  to  leave  them 
to  you.  You're  to  have  a  free  hand.  We  have  de- 
cided to  give  that  scheme  of  yours  a  try. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Gratified,  but  overwhelmed)  Jeru- 
salem ! 

NATHAN.  Yes,  young  man,  but  you're  to  save 
the  day.  We  expect  success. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Faintly)    Yes,  sir. 

NATHAN.  The  American  Oceanic  Company 
stands  for  anything  but  failure. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yes,  sir. 

NATHAN.  Better  have  a  record  kept  of  the  pro- 
ceedings, Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yes,  sir. 

('NATHAN  exits  to  his  office  as  SONNTAG  re-enters.) 

SONNTAG.     They're  on  their  way  up. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Still  in  a  daze)  Yes,  sir.  (He 
pulls  himself  together  and  goes  to  his  desk)  Good ! 
(Pushing  the  buzzer  in  desk) 

SONNTAG.  (With  mock  humility)  May  I  have 
the  great  privilege  of  listening  to  your  address? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Why,  certainly!  ('SONNTAG  exits 
as  Miss  SHAYNE  enters  Centre)  Miss  Shayne,  I 
want  a  record  taken  of  the  proceedings.  Will  you 
be  ready? 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I'  am. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  will  you  bring  me  those  little 
memoranda  I  dictated  to  you  this  morning? 

Miss  SHAYNE.  (Handing  him  slips)  Here  they 
are. 

(She  sits  Left  of  the  desk,  and  opens  her  notebook, 
as  SONNTAG  ushers  in  the  three  Labor  Dele- 
gates. RUSSELL,  the  head  of  the  delegation,  is 
fifty-five.  He  is  dignified  and  gray-haired, 


86  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

wearing  a  silk  hat  and  frock-coat.  CAIN  and 
FLYNN  are  much  younger.  They  are  aggres- 
sive, ambitious  and  sincere.  All  three  men  are 
Irish,  and  they  are  both  intelligent  and  deter- 
mined.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Come  in,  gentlemen,  come  in.  (Rus- 
SELL  comes  slightly  above  desk,  the  others  following) 
I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  I  am  Mr.  Bart. 

RUSSELL.     I  am  Mr.  Russell.    This  is  Mr.  Cain. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Mr.  Cain.     (CAIN  bows) 

RUSSELL.     Mr.  Flynn. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Mr.  Flynn.    ('FLYNN  bows) 

RUSSELL.     But  we  expected  to  see  Mr.  Nathan. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  realize  that  you  are  disappointed 
not  to  see  President  Nathan  in  person,  but  in  his  in- 
ability to  be  present  at  these  proceedings,  he  has 
empowered  me  to  act  with  plenipotentiary  authority. 

THE  MEN.     Oh ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dr.  Sonntag,  will  you  offer  these 
gentlemen  some  chairs?  (^SONNTAG  shoves  a  chair 
over  to  FLYNN,  then  sits  at  his  desk)  Won't  you  be 
seated  ?  (To  RUSSELL  as1  they  sit)  You  have  come 
to  present  your  ultimatum  ? 

RUSSELL.    Yes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  have  it  with  you  in  documen- 
tary form? 

RUSSELL.     Yes. 

JOHN  PAUL.     May  I  see  it,  please? 

RUSSELL.  (Taking  a  document  from  his  pocket 
and  handing  it  to  JOHN  PAUL)  There. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Glancing  through  the  paper)  I 
see !  And  this  embodies  the  same  points  outlined  in 
the  memorandum  submitted  last  week? 

RUSSELL.  Yes;  and  we  have  agreed  that  there 
are  to  be  no  changes. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  the  strike  is  definitely  called 
for  to-morrow  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  87 

RUSSELL.  Yes,  sir.  Unless  our  demands  are  ac- 
cepted in  full,  the  strike  is  definitely  called  for  to- 
morrow. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Calling  out  over  14,600  employees 
in  the  twelve  shipyards  of  the  American  Oceanic 
Shipbuilding  Corporation  ? 

RUSSELL.     Every  man. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  stopping  work  on  contracts  for 
steel  ships  now  under  construction  for  various  lines 
— (Laying  the  ultimatum  on  the  desk  and  picking 
up  a  memorandum) — aggregating  five  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  gross  tons  and  representing  a  carry- 
ing capacity  of  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  thou- 
sand tons  and  an  investment  of  one  hundred  and 
eighty-six  million  dollars.  (Quietly)  You  bring  all 
this  to  a  stop  to-morrow? 

RUSSELL.    Yes,  sir ;  to  a  stop  to-morrow. 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  this  is  your  ultimatum?  (Pick- 
ing it  up  again  from  the  desk.) 

RUSSELL.     Yes,  sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Well,  gentlemen,  it  can't  be  done. 

(He  quietly  tears  the  document  to  pieces.     There 

is  an  instant  of  silence,   then  the  three  men 

jump   to   their  feet  and  rush  over  to  JOHN 
PAUL'S  desk.) 

RUSSELL.     What  are  you  doing? 

CAIN.     He's  tearing  it  up! 

FLYNN.     You've  got  an  awful  nerve! 

RUSSELL.  Now,  look  here,  young  fellow,  don't 
you  try  to  get  funny  with  us !  We  mean  what  we 
say — every  damn  word! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Quietly,  but  with  decision,  as  he 
rises  and  faces  them)  And  I  mean  what  I  say — every 
damn  word!  I  tell  you  it  can't  be  done! 

FLYNN.  Well,  we  might  just  as  well  go  back  to 
Headquarters.  (Starting  Right,  followed  by  the  oth- 
ers) Come  on,  boys! 


88  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

CAIN.     We  didn't  come  here  to  be  insulted ! 

RUSSELL.    Well,  I  should  say  not! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Wait!  (The  MEN  stop)  Do  you 
actually  suppose  you  have  the  privilege  or  the  right 
or  the  po\yer  to  keep  the  world  waiting  for  those 
ships  at  this  crisis  of  history? — an  hour  when  every 
worm-eaten  tub  that  can  put  to  sea  is  bursting  her 
hatches  with  her  cargo  of  food  and  clothing  and 
structural  steel  and  machinery  and  implements  and 
building  materials — necessities  of  life,  every  one  of 
them — and  the  whole  public  of  the  whole  world  cry- 
ing out  with  its  need  of  them? 

CAIN.    The  public  be  damned ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Fine !  Thank  you  for  those  words ! 
The  public  be  damned !  There's  the  thing  in  a  nut- 
shell. I  wonder  if  you  remember  who  it  was  first 
uttered  that  significant  little  phrase?  Was  he  a 
laboring  man?  No,  my  friends,  he  was  a  railroad 
president.  You've  reversed  the  roles,  that's  all.  It's 
you  that  damn  the  public  now.  (Sitting  at  his  desk) 

RUSSELL.  That  isn't  the  way  he  meant  it.  He 
spoke  too  quick.  But  the  thing  is  this:  we  know 
what  we  want  and  we're  going  to  get  it ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  And  we  know  what  we  want  and — 
we're  going  to  get  it. 

RUSSELL.     Oh,  you  are,  are  you  ? 

CAIN.    That  sounds  pretty  good! 

FLYNN.     Oh,  come  on ! 

RUSSELL.  Wait  a  minute,  Flynn!  (FLYNN 
stops) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  gentlemen,  we're  both  going  to 
get  what  we  want,  because  we  both  want  the  same 
thing. 

RUSSELL.    What's  that? 

JOHN  PAUL.  The  same  thing.  We've  never  dis- 
covered it  before,  because  each  of  us  has  gone  on 
thinking  only  about  himself  and  hating  the  other 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  89 

man,  and  this  hate  has  kept  on  growing  and  blinding 
us  more  and  more  until  now  we  can  hardly  see  the 
simplest  fact  of  all,  which  is  that  we  belong  to- 
gether; that  you  can't  do  without  us  and  we  can't  do 
without  you;  that  fundamentally  our  interests  must 
be  the  same;  identically  the  same.  We  both  want 
the  same  thing — success.  (Rising)  And  look  here, 
boys,  if  we're  going  to  spend  all  our  time  getting  in 
each  other's  way — Pardon  me,  Miss  Shayne — how 
the  hell  can  we  expect  success?  (The  MEN  laugh) 
Now,  tell  me,  are  you  ready  to  talk  business  with 
me  on  that  basis?  If  you  are,  please  sit  down. 
(A  pause.  Then  RUSSELL  nods  to  the  MEN  and 
they  sit)  That's  fine !  (Sitting  again  at  his  desk) 
And  first  I  want  to  say  right  out  that  we've  been 
more  to  blame  than  you  have.  We've  been  dealing 
all  these  years  with  industrial  units,  with  two-legged 
kilowatts,  not  with  men.  And  we've  missed  all  the 
best  you  have  to  give  us  through  ignoring  the  fact 
that  you're  human ;  that  you  have  ambitions  and 
ideals  of  your  own ;  that  you  care,  and  that  if  only 
we  could  get  you  to  care  for  us,  believe  in  us,  be  loyal 

to  us (Rising  and  coming  in  front  of  his  desk) 

You  may  not  believe  it,  my  dear  Mr.  Russell,  but  I 
know  what  it  is  to  feel  that  your  boss  is  down  on 
you.  I  had  a  friend  once,  a  wide-awake,  manly,  am- 
bitious chap — I  knew  him  well — who  worked  in  a 
tailor  shop. 

SONNTAG.     (Sarcastically)     Well,  well! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (As  the  MEN  turn  and  look  at 
SONNTAGJ  My  secretary  knew  him,  too,  and  he  could 
tell  you  how  they  all  hated  him  there.  It  was  the 
same  thing  all  day  long;  picked  on  for  this,  docked 
for  that ;  never  a  word  of  praise  or  encouragement. 
And  the  result  ?  A  day  came  when  that  boy  couldn't 
stand  it  any  longer.  He  walked  out,  and  that  little 
shop  lost  a  man  who  might  have  built  it  up  into  a 
rival  of  Brooks'  Brothers.  There  was  stuff  in  that 


90  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

boy !  There's  stuff  in  every  man  if  you  can  only 
bring  it  out.  You  want  his  loyalty  ?  Then  be  loyal 
to  him.  We  want  to  be  loyal  to  you.  Let's  get 
together,  men.  It  can  be  done.  Look  at  what  Charlie 
Schwab,  the  biggest  industrial  leader  of  the  world, 
has  achieved  at  Bethlehem.  Why,  Mr.  Flynn,  why  is 
Bethlehem  steel  the  most  productive  and  prosperous 
concern  in  the  world?  Because  of  its  get-together. 
From  President  down  to  coal-heaver  every  man  in 
Bethlehem  roots  for  Bethlehem.  Can't  we  do  the 
same  thing  with  our  propositions?  Isn't  it  worth 
a  try? 

CAIN.  That's  very  fine  talk,  young  man,  but  just 
what  are  you  driving  at? 

JOHN  PAUL.  At  this,  Mr.  Cain:  we  are  part- 
ners! For  everything  you  give  us  we  give  you 
in  proportion.  We're  ready,  Mr.  Cain,  to  institute  a 
schedule  of  bonuses  covering  the  entire  industrial 
lay-out  of  American  Oceanic.  Not  a  man  will  be 
neglected,  not  even  the  man  with  the  wheelbarrow. 
For  every  load  he  trundles  over  and  above  the  com- 
puted hourly  average,  he  gets  a  specific  bonus,  and 
this  same  idea  applies  up  through  the  whole  organi- 
zation— stoker,  presser,  engineer,  riveter 

RUSSELL.  (Interrupting,  with  skeptical  curios- 
ity) Pardon  me,  Mr.  Bart,  but  how  can  you  apply 
that  to  a  skilled  mechanic?  That  was  my  job  when 
I  worked  in  the  shops. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Mechanic?  Good!  You're  given  a 
piece  of  work  which  averages  say,  twenty  hours,  at 
a  regular  wage  of  forty  cents  per  hour.  Well,  if 
you  finish  that  job  in  the  average  time  you  get  a 
bonus  of  twenty  per  cent.  And  again :  if  you  finish 
that  job  in  half  the  time — you  could,  couldn't  you, 
Mr.  Russell,  many  a  time? 

RUSSELL.     Certainly ;  if  I  had  an  inducement. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Well,  now,  here's  the  inducement. 
You  still  get  the  same  bonus  and  there  you  are  with 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  91 

ten  hours  to  the  good,  ready  to  tackle  a  second  job 
on  the  same  schedule.  How  does  that  strike  you  ? 

RUSSELL.     (Thoughtfully)    Interesting. 

FLYNN.  Let  me  understand  this,  Mr.  Bart. 
You  mean ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  mean,  Mr.  Flynn,  that  every  un- 
usual effort  you  make  is  capitalized  into  profit  for 
you.  You  give  more — you  get  more!  Do  you  know 
that,  my  friends?  You  get  more  than  you  ask  for! 
Fully  a  quarter  more  than  you  demanded  in  those 
clumsy,  short-sighted,  unscientific  stipulations. 

RUSSELL.     In  other  words 

JOHN  PAUL.  In  other  words,  my  dear  Russell, 
we're  partners!  What  a  wonderful  word — partners! 
Doesn't  it  get  you,  Mr.  Cain  ?  Doesn't  it  make  you 
feel  things  in  a  new  way  ?  It  does  me.  What  do  you 
say  ?  Shall  we  get  together  and  give  it  a  try  ? 

FLYNN.  Say,  do  you  know  this  damn  thing 
sounds  kind  o'  good  to  me? 

JOHN  PAUL.  My  dear  Mr.  Flynn,  it  is  good ! 
And  now  tell  me  this !  What's  the  biggest  thing 
about  the  whole  proposition?  The  fact  that  it 
comes  now — now,  just  as  America  is  jumping 
into  the  big  place  that's  waiting  for  her  in  the  world. 
With  our  help  she'll  command  the  seas  again  with 
her  fleet  of  merchant  ships.  It's  going  to  happen. 
Do  you  realize,  Mr.  Russell,  that  we're  building  at 
the  present  moment  in  this  country  two  million  tons 
of  new  ships  to  go  out  and  conquer  the  trade  of  the 
nations?  Do  you  realize,  Mr.  Cain,  that  in  1916 
we  turned  out  twice  the  tonnage  of  1915,  the  largest 
total  recorded  in  our  country's  history?  That  al- 
ready we  possess  the  second  largest  merchant  marine 
in  the  world?  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Flynn 

RUSSELL.  Just  a  moment,  young  man!  Have 
you  got  this  all  written  down  somewhere  so  I  can 
read  it  off  to  the  men  to-night? 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  bet  I  have,  and  a  whole  lot  more. 


92  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

Miss  Shayne.  (She  hands  him  a  paper)  There  you 
are!  (Handing  the  paper  to  RUSSELL)  The  whole 
schedule  of  bonuses  is  outlined  here.  Take  the  mat- 
ter up  with  your  Council  to-night,  will  you? 

RUSSELL.     Yes,  sir,  I  will. 

FLYNN.     Yes,  we'll  be  very  glad  to! 

JOHN  PAUL.     And  now  how  about  the  strike? 

(RUSSELL  looks  at  CAIN.J 

CAIN.  Well,  we'll  have  to  talk  that  over  in  Com- 
mittee. 

RUSSELL.  (Rising)  It  may  be  hard  to  stop  it 
now,  but  we'll  see  what  we  can  do.  We'll  do  our 
best.  At  least,  we  can  get  a  delay. 

FLYNN.  Look  here,  Mr.  Bart,  I  think  it  would 
be  a  good  idea  for  you  to  come  over  and  speak  to 
the  Council  yourself.  Would  you  do  that  if  we  give 
you  an  invite  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.    (To  FLYNN )    You  bet  I  will! 

CAIN.  (Rising)  We'll  send  you  word  to-mor- 
row. 

JOHN  PAUL.     What  time? 

RUSSELL.     (To  the  MEN,)    Ten  o'clock? 

FLYNN  and  CAIN.     Yes,  that's  all  right. 

RUSSELL.    Well,  we've  got  to  get  busy. 

(The  MEN  prepare  to  go.) 

JOHN  PAUL.     One  last  thing.    Will  you  give  me 
your  word  there'll  be  no  strike  until  the  men  have 
had  time  to  look  into  this  proposition  ? 
RUSSELL.     I  give  you  my  word. 
JOHN  PAUL.     Will  you  shake  hands  on  it? 
RUSSELL.     By  all  means.     (They  shake  hands) 
FLYNN.     I  should  say  so !    (Following  suit) 
CAIN.     I'm  for  that!     (Also  shaking  hands  with 
JOHN  PAULJ 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  93 

RUSSELL.  Well,  boys  if  we're  going  to  get  action 
on  this,  we  must  be  moving  along. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (As  he  follows  the  MEN  to  the 
door)  My  dear  Mr.  Russell,  I  am  very  glad  to  have 
heard  your  ideas  on  the  subject.  (As  the  MEN 
exit)  Remember,  boys,  we're  partners !  The  more 
you  earn,  the  more  you  get! 

(As  he  shuts  the  door  after  them  he  leans  against 
it  and  heaves  a  sigh  of  relief.) 

Miss  SHAYNE.  (Jumping  to  her  feet  as  the  MEN 
exit)  Splendid ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Well,  now  I  must  go  and  tell  Mr. 
Nathan  how  they 

SONNTAG.  (Springing  to  his  feet  and  speaking 
with  mock  humility)  One  moment !  Perhaps  you 
will  first  consent  to  have  a  few  little  words  with  so 
humble  a  personage  as  myself. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Why,  of  course,  Doctor.  Miss 
Shayne,  I  shall  want  a  typewritten  record  of  the  pro- 
ceedings. 

Miss  SHAYNE.     (As  she  goes)    I  know  it. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  and  will  you  telephone  down 
to  the  main  office  and  see  if  my  valet  is  there? 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I  will.    (Exits  Centre) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Leaning  on  the  edge  of  his  desk) 
Now,  Doctor! 

SONNTAG.  I  would  like  to  know  what  you  mean 
by  getting  chummy  'with  those  laboring  men  and 
patting  them  on  the  back.  Is  that  according  to  the 
principles  you  learned  out  of  my  book?  My  book 
taught  you  to  be  the  champion  of  Property. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Quietly)  I  am  a  champion  of 
Property.  Those  men  realized  it.  What  are  high 
wages  but  property?  What  is  prosperity  but  prop- 
erty? What  is  self -betterment  but  property? 

SONNTAG.    Not  my  idea  of  property. 


94  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.     Sorry,  but  I  can't  help  that. 

SONNTAG.  You  think  now  you  can  go  along 
your  own  way  and  leave  me  out  of  account. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Am  I  leaving  you  out  of  account 
when  I  publish  your  book  for  you  at  my  own  ex- 
pense? No,  I  am  determined  to  win  for  you  the 
thing  you  have  wanted  so  many  years — public  recog- 
nition. 

(POMEROY  enters  Right.) 

POMEROY.  Miss  Shayne  'phoned  you  wanted  me, 
sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  Pomeroy.  I  wish  you'd  touch 
things  up  a  bit,  I'm  expecting  some  callers. 

POMEROY.  Very  good,  'sir.  (Busying  himself 
about  the  room) 

(GRAYSON  enters  from  NATHAN'S  private  office.) 

GRAYSON.    Mr.  Bart! 
JOHN  PAUL.     What  is  it,  Grayson? 
GRAYSON.     Mr.  Nathan  would  like  to  see  you  in 
his  private  office. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Very  well. 

(He  exits,  following  GRAYSON.    Telephone  on  desk 
rings.) 

SONNTAG.    Answer  the  'phone,  Pomeroy. 

POMEROY.  (At 'phone)  Hello!  .  .  .  Hello!  .  .  . 
No.  .  .  .  No,  Mr.  Bart  has  just  stepped  out  for  a 
few  moments — this  is  Pomeroy — oh,  Miss  Huber! 
.  .  .  No,  ma'am,  he'll  be 

SONNTAG.  (Rising  quickly,  crossing  and  snatch- 
ing the  'phone  from  him)  Hello,  Tanya !  .  .  .  Tan- 
ya! ...  Tanya,  is  that  you?  (Yanking  the  holder 
up  and  down)  Hello,  Tanya!  .  .  .  Hello!  .  .  . 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  95 

Hello !  (To  POMEROY,  as  he  places  'phone  back  on 
desk)  Why  did  Tanya  Huber  call  up  Bart  ? 

POMEROY.  You  never  gave  me  a  chance  to  find 
out. 

SONNTAG.  I  say,  what  did  she  want?  Tell  me, 
you  damned  cockney! 

POMEROY.  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  didn't  know  any- 
thing1 about  it?  How  should  I? 

SONNTAG.     I'll  find  out! 

POMEROY.     What  are  you  going  to  do,  Doctor? 

SONNTAG.     I'm  going  to  find  out! 

POMEROY.  Listen  here,  Doctor!  f  SONNTAG 
stops)  This  is  no  affair  of  mine,  but  if  it  would  in 
any  way  relieve  your  mind  to  know  it,  John  Paul 
Bart  is  aiming  a  good  bit  higher  than  a  tailor's 
daughter. 

SONNTAG.  Yes,  for  his  wife  he  is  aiming  at  mil- 
lions, but  for  his  pleasure  what  is  to  prevent  him 
from  aiming  at  a  tailor's  daughter?  (Knock  on 
Right  door)  Come  in ! 

(MRS.  STANLAW  and  CORINNE  enter.  SONNTAG, 
with  a  growl,  exits  by  the  same  door,  slamming 
it  violently.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (To  POMEROY,  after  watching 
SONNTAG  exit)  What's  the  matter  with  that  man? 

POMEROY.  He's  just  a  bit  excited,  ma'am.  Mr. 
Bart  will  be  here  directly.  President  Nathan  wished 
to  see  him  in  his  private  office. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  see.  But  weren't  you  for- 
merly Mr.  Jellicot's  man  ? 

POMEROY.  Yes,  ma'am,  but  we  had  a  little  tiff 
over  a  dress  suit,  which  though  it  was  returned  the 
next  morning  in  perfect  condition,  and  with  two 
fifty-dollar  bills  in  the  fob  pocket,  it  seemed  better 
to  separate,  and  Mr.  Bart  sent  for  me.  I  will  have 
Mr.  Bart  notified  of  your  coming. 


96  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Very  well.  (After  POMEROY 
exits)  You  know,  dear,  this  is  not  a  very  dignified 
thing  you're  doing. 

CORINNE.     What  do  you  mean? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  mean  coming  here  to  Mr. 
Bart's  office  without  a  definite  appointment. 

CORINNE.  When  I  'phoned  him  they  told  me 
he'd  see  me  at  five-thirty. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  But  you  shouldn't  have  'phoned. 
You  should  let  him  do  that. 

CORINNE.  He'd  never  think  of  it.  He's  a  busi- 
ness man. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Sitting)  And  this  is  his  place 
of  business  where  only  matters  of  business  should 
be  transacted. 

CORINNE.  (Leaning  on  JOHN  PAUL'S  desk) 
True !  That's  why  I'm  here ;  to  transact  the  most 
important  business  of  my  life. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     What  are  you  going  to  do? 

CORINNE.  Invite  him  to  spend  the  week-end  with 
us  at  Lenox. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Corinne,  I  do  believe  you're 
actually  forcing  yourself  on  the  man. 

CORINNE.     Mother! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Well,  it  looks  very  much  like  it. 
When  I  was  your  age  I  never  thought  of  doing  such 
things. 

CORINNE.  But,  dear,  you  never  were  my  age — 
always  a  generation  younger. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Well,  in  this  age  or  any  other 
the  ordinary  man  never  admired  a  forward  girl. 

CORINNE.  But  Mr.  Bart  is  not  an  ordinary  man. 
He's  a  genius.  It  takes  a  genius  to  understand. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     To  understand  what? 

CORINNE.    To  understand  me. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Corinne,  what  are  you  thinking 
of? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  97 

CORINNE.  (Soulfully)  Of  John  Paul  Bart !  Of 
the  genius  who  knows  a  genius!  Of  the  things 
Napoleon  left  undone!  Of  his  manners,  his  breed- 
ing, his  future!  Oh,  Mother,  can't  you  see? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Rising)  Yes,  I  can  see  that 
you're  making  a  fool  of  yourself,  if  that's  what  you 
mean,  and  I'm  not  going  to  allow  it.  We'll  not  stop 
here  another  moment.  Come  along. 

CORINNE.  (Sitting)  No,  not  until  I  have  seen 
him.  The  thing  I  have  prayed  for  has  come  at 
last. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  And  what  have  you  been  pray- 
ing for  now? 

CORINNE.     Courage.     Courage  to  ask  him. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     To  ask  him  what? 

CORINNE.  If  he'll  come  to  Lenox  for  the  week- 
end. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
I'm  the  one  to  extend  the  invitation,  not  you. 

CORINNE.  (Overjoyed)  Mother,  will  you  do 
that?  Will  you  do  that  for  me? 

(JOHN  PAUL  enters  and  goes  to  MRS.  STANLAW 
with  outstretched  hand.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  So  sorry  to  have  kept  you  wait- 
ing, Mrs.  Stanlaw.  Won't  you  sit  down? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  No,  thank  you.  We  just 
dropped  in  for  a  moment.  We  were  quite  lost  in 
admiration  of  your  beautiful  office. 

CORINNE.    Yes,  indeed! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Oh,  Miss  Stanlaw !  So  glad  to  see 
you  again! 

CORINNE.     Are  you,  really? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Why,  of  course! 

CORINNE.     Thanks!    Thanks! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Our  purpose  in  running  in,  Mr. 
Bart,  was  to  ask  if  you  would  care  to  spend  the 


98  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

week-end  with  us  at  Lenox.  We're  going  to  open 
our  house. 

JOHN  PAUL.    Lenox? 

CORINNE.     Yes.    Have  you  never  been  there? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Never. 

CORINNE.  Then  you  must  come !  It's  glori- 
ous !  It's  Paradise !  Those  hills  !  Those  wonder- 
ful hills !  I've  tramped  them  for  miles  and  miles — 
all  alone! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Rather  embarrassed)  Corinne 
is  a  very  strange  girl.  She  likes  to  be  alone. 

JOHN  PAUL.  So  do  I.  I  love  to  be  alone. 
(Laughing  nervously) 

CORINNE.     Not  all  alone? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Embarrassed)  Well,  no,  I  always 
like  to  know  that  the  hills  are  there  with  me,  of 
course. 

CORINNE.  Oh,  it  will  be  such  fun!  You'll  just 
love  Lenox !  Won't  he,  Mother  ? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  hope  so,  dear.  But  Mr.  Bart 
hasn't  accepted  our  invitation  as  yet.  (To  JOHN 
PAUL,)  May  we  expect  you  ? 

CORINNE.     (Soulfully)     Yes,  may  we? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  expect  so — that  is,  I  should  say, 
yes — yes,  of  course !  I'm  crazy  to  see  those  hills  you 
speak  of!  Alone  in  the  hills!  (Laughing  as  he 
turns  to  CORINNE,)  Sounds  like  the  name  of  a  story 
book,  doesn't  it  ? 

CORINNE.  Yes,  it  all  seems  like  a  story  book 
to  me. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Irritated  at  CORINNE'S  man- 
ner) Come,  Corinne,  we  must  go  along.  I'll  call 
you  up  to-morrow,  Mr.  Bart 

JOHN  PAUL.    Very  well,  Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     Come,  Corinne. 

CORINNE.  Right  with  you,  Mother.  (To  JOHN 
PAUL,)  You  won't  forget  ?  Week-end—Lenox — the 
hills? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  99 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  understand. 

CORINNE.  (Extending  her  hand)  You  do,  in- 
deed! 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Impatiently  at  door)  Come, 
Corinne. 

CORINNE.  Yes,  Mother.  (Going  to  the  door, 
then  turning  toward  JOHN  PAUL)  Good-bye! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good-bye! 

(As  CORINNE  exits,  MRS.  STANLAW  comes  to  JOHN 
PAUL.  She  is  nervous,  but  determined  to  ex- 
plain CORINNE  to  him.) 

MRS.  STANLAW.  I  want  to  warn  you,  Mr.  Bart. 
Corinne  has  a  great  sense  of  humor. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Has  she? 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Yes.  She's  not  always  serious, 
so  don't  take  her  that  way. 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  promise  not  to  take  her  that  way, 
Mrs.  Stanlaw. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Very  well.  I  see  you  under- 
stand. Good-bye. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good-bye. 

(MRS.  STANLAW  exits.  JOHN  PAUL  stands  for  a 
moment  thinking,  then  goes  up  Left,  switches 
off  the  lights,  crosses  to  his  desk  and  lights  a 
cigarette.  He  is  absorbed  in  his  thoughts  as 
POMEROY  enters,  Centre.) 

POMEROY.  I've  ordered  some  supper  for  you, 
sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Thanks,  Pomeroy,  I'll  be  in  directly. 

POMEROY.  A  little  bit  in  the  doldrums  to-night, 
sir? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  always  supposed  that  if  a  moment 
like  this  should  ever  come  in  my  life  I'd  be  the  hap- 
piest man  in  the  world. 

POMEROY.     (Tidying  the  desk)     And  you  may 


ioo  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

say  you've  reason  for  it,  sir,  hob-nobbing  with  a  man 
like  Nathan ;  welcomed  everywhere  by  the  blue- 
bloods  ;  visited  in  your  office  by  a  famous  heiress 
and  her  mother.  My  word,  it's  quite  like  a  fairy 
story,  sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Queer  proposition,  life!  (Drop- 
ping into  the  big  chair  Centre.) 

POMEROY.     Queer's  the  word,  sir. 

JOHN  PAUL.  You  set  your  heart  on  something; 
you  resolve  to  possess  it,  to  make  it  yours  at  any  cost 
— nothing  shall  stand  in  your  way.  You  struggle  and 
sweat  and  strain  every  fiber  of  your  body,  and  fi- 
nally, when  you  have  it  there  in  your  hand,  the 
thing  you've  set  your  heart  on,  sold  your  soul  for, 
what  is  it  after  all?  You  thought  that  was  happi- 
ness. It's  not.  Smoke,  that's  all, — and  ashes. 
There's  something  missing.  Some  one  thing  I  want. 

POMEROY.  How  if  I  was  to  mix  you  up  a  nice 
little  cocktail,  sir  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Laughing)  No,  that's  not  what 
I'm  missing.  (A  knock  is  heard  on  door  Right) 
See  who  that  is,  will  you? 

POMEROY.     Yes,  sir. 

(He  opens  the  door  and  TANYA  enters  and  comes 
hurriedly  toward  him.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Going  quickly  to  her)  Tanya! 
Not  you! 

TANYA.     (Nervously)    Are  you  alone? 

(POMEROY  exits  Right.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes.  Why,  it  seems  years  since  I 
saw  you  last — years !  Sit  down. 

TANYA.  Oh,  no,  I  can't!  Mr.  Bart,  I  wouldn't 
have  come  only  I  know — I  mean  I  didn't  know  who 
might  open  your  letters  for  you,  and — and  then 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  101 

when  I  tried  to  telephone  you — half  an  hour  ago — 

JOHN  PAUL.     Tell  me,  what  is  it? 

TANYA.  So  you  see  the  only  thing-  left  to  do  was 
to  come  myself.  Oh,  Mr.  Bart,  you  mustn't  think 
ill  of  me ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Why,  Tanya,  what  an  idea !  Think 
ill  of  you !  How  could  I  ? 

TANYA.  Mr.  Bart,  I  came  to  you  because  I 
thought  I  ought  to  tell  you  something. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Why,  what  is  it,  Tanya?  Some- 
thing I  can  do  for  you?  You  know  I'd  do  anything 
in  the  world  for  you. 

TANYA.     Oh,  no,  it  isn't  for  me — it's  for  you. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Amazed)    Forme! 

TANYA.  Of  course,  Mr.  Bart,  you  mustn't  think 
that  I  wish  to  be  disloyal  to  Dr.  Sonntag,  since  it's 
all  settled  that  I'm  to  be — you  know — but  I  just 

couldn't  bear  to  think Oh,  John  Paul,  he  hates 

you  so  terribly!  I  know  some  dreadful  thing  is 
going  to  happen  unless  you'll — he  says  things  that 
frighten  me  so — threats!  Oh,  I  couldn't  bear  to 
have  him  spoil  it  all  for  you  now !  I  couldn't  bear 
it !  (She  drops  in  a  chair  and  covers  her  face  with 
her  hands) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Pause)  You  don't  mean,  Tanya, 
that  it  really  matters  to  you? 

TANYA.  Why,  but  of  course  it  does!  Surely  I 
can  be  proud  of  your  success,  can't  I  ?  Why,  almost 
every  day  I  manage  to  hear  some  little  scrap  of 
news  about  the  wonderful  things  you're  doing,  and 
it's  so  nice  to  think  that  great  man  who's  bringing 
the  world  to  his  feet,  used  to  be  there^one  of  us, 
in  that  little  shop — we  were  friends.  It's  given  me 
a  feeling  of  having  a  share  in  it  myself — of  doing 
something— don't  you  see?  Oh,  they  mustn't  spoil 
it  now !  They  sha'n't  spoil  it !  It  has  been  so  beau- 
tiful! (She  breaks  down  and  sobs) 


102  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

JOHN  PAUL.     Tanya,  is  it  true?    You  care? 

TANYA.    Why,  how  could  I  help  it? 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  never  dreamed  anyone  cared.  It 
makes  everything  look  so  different.  Why,  it's  a 
different  world. 

TANYA.  (Rising)  I  must  go  now.  I  only 

wanted  to  tell  you Oh,  John  Paul,  please  be 

careful  and  don't  do  anything  that  might  offend 
him,  because  I  don't  know  what  he  might  do,  really ! 
I — Good-bye.  (Extending  her  hand.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Taking  both  her  hands)  Not  yet, 
please ! 

TANYA.  No,  I  must  go.  I'm  afraid  I  oughtn't 
to  have  come  at  all. 

JOHN  PAUL.  But  can't  we  be  friends?  Aren't 
we  going  to  see  each  other  again  ? 

TANYA.  What  would  be  the  use  ?  You  belong  to 
your  world  and  I  belong  to  my  world.  You're  go- 
ing higher  and  higher,  doing  bigger  things  all  the 
time,  and  I — I'm  going  to  watch  you  from  a  long 
way  off  and  always  be  proud  of  you ! 

(Loud  voices  and  scuffling  are  heard  off-stage, 
Centre.) 

SONNTAG.  (Offstage)  Let  me  in,  you  dog,  or 
I'll  kill  you!  (He  bursts  into  the  room,  followed 
by  POMEROY.  who  has  tried  to  stop  him)  Ah,  I 
thought  so !  This  is  what  happens  the  moment  I  am 
away !  You  watch  till  I  am  gone  and  then  you  come 
hurrying  here  for  his  kisses. 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dr.  Sonntag,  I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor 

SONNTAG.  Your  word  of  honor!  Your  word 
of  honor!  There  was  something  between  you  even 
in  the  tailor  shop,  but  I  was  not  lucky  enough  to 
catch  you.  This  time  it  is  different ! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Will  you  let  me  explain? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  103 

SONNTAG.  No,  I  will  not  let  you  explain.  Do 
you  think  I  can't  see  for  myself? 

TANYA.  (Quickly  to  SONNTAG,)  Oh,  but  Gus- 
tavus,  it  was  my  fault !  Do  anything  you  like  to  me, 
but  don't — don't ! 

^  SONNTAG.  Yes,  plead  for  him,  you !  Plead  for 
him! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dr.  Sonntag,  Miss  Tanya  has  done 
nothing  that  deserves  any  blame,  nothing,  but  if  you 
must  blame  someone,  I  am  here,  and  for  God's 
sake,  let  us  settle  this  between  ourselves. 

SONNTAG.  Very  well.  (To  TANYA)  You  go 
home! 

TANYA.     No!    (Going  nearer  to  JOHN  PAUL,) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dr.  Sonntag  is  right;  you  had  best 
go  home. 

TANYA.     No,  please  let  me  stay! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Don't  be  afraid ;  it's  all  right.  Don't 
you  see  you  can't  do  the  least  bit  of  good  by  staying? 

TANYA.     Please  don't  send  me  away! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Don't  be  afraid,  it's  all  right — it's  all 
right.  Pomeroy,  will  you  please  see  Miss  Huber 
home? 

POMEROY.    Yes,  sir. 

(He  opens  the  door.  TANYA  goes  to  the  door,  turns 
and  throws  a  frightened  glance  at  SONNTAG, 
then  one  of  appeal  to  JOHN  PAUL.,) 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Reassuringly)  It's  all  right. 
(TANYA  exits,  followed  by  POMEROY.,)  And  now, 
sir,  I  am  ready  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say — (As 
SONNTAG  starts  to  speak) — but  I  warn  you  right 
here — the  first  word  you  speak  against  Miss  Tanya 
will  be  the  last  word  you  speak  in  this  room.  Her 
name  must  be  kept  out  of  this.  She  is  entirely  with- 
out blame  and  if  you  can't  believe  it,  so  much  the 
worse  for  you. 


104  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

SONNTAG.  And  you  think  it  matters  to  me  now 
who  is  to  blame !  Too  late  for  that !  One  thing  is 
plain  enough  and  you  need  not  try  to  deny  it :  You 
love  her ! 

JOHN  PAUL.    Who  doesn't  love  her? 

SONNTAG.  (Fiercely)  You  can  stand  there  and 
tell  me  such  a  thing  to  my  face!  You  love  the 
woman  that  belongs  to  me! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Spiritedly)  She  does  not  belong 
to  you !  She  never  did  belong  to  you !  You  never 
had  her  love !  You  never  asked  for  it !  You  never 
even  thought  of  asking  for  it !  All  you  cared  about 
was 

SONNTAG.  (Furious)  Ah!  You  think  you  can 
tamper  with  another  man's  property  and  not  pay  a 
price  for  it !  I  tell  you  this  is  the  end !  You  were 
the  man  I  made  and  now  you  are  the  man  I  will 
un-make!  The  world  shall  have  your  story!  It 
shall  know  that  only  nine  months  ago  you  were  a 
scurvy  tailor's  hand,  and  that  it  was  by  stealing  the 
dress  suit  of  one  man  and  the  brains  of  another 
that  you  sneaked  your  way  into  the  society  of  your 
betters!  You  are  done  for!  To-morrow  every 
newspaper  in  New  York  shall  have  your  story !  (He 
exits  Right,  slamming  the  door) 

(JoHN  PAUL  stands  leaning  on  the  big  chair,  staring 
into  space  as  Miss  SHAYNE  enters  with  her 
notebook  and  comes  down  to  Right  of  desk) 

Miss  SHAYNE.     I'm  ready! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Ready!    Were  you  listening? 

Miss  SHAYNE.     Certainly! 

JOHN  PAUL.     I'm  going  to  beat  him  to  it! 

Miss  SHAYNE.  I  knew  it!  (Sitting  and  open- 
ing her  notebook) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Dictation!  To  the  Associated  Press 
— for  immediate  release: — John  Paul  Bart  submits 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  105 

the  following  statement  in  resume  of  his  recent  per- 
sonal history.  On  Tuesday,  the  23rd  of  last  March, 
being  at  that  time  employed  as  a  presser  in  the  tail- 
oring shop  of  Mr.  Anton  Huber,  he  deliberately  ap- 
propriated a  dress  suit  belonging  to  Mr.  Theodore 
Jellicot,  the  well-known  yachtsman,  and  appeared  at 
a  reception,  where  he  introduced  himself  to  Abraham 
Nathan,  president  of  the  American  Oceanic  Ship- 
building Corporation 

CURTAIN 


ACT  IV 

SCENE:  The  same  as  Act  I.  It  is  the  morning  fol- 
lowing the  events  of  Act  III ;  and  when  the 
curtain  rises,  MRS.  STANLAW  and  CORINNE  are 
seated  in  the  Tailor  Shop,  Centre,  talking  with 
MR.  HUBER,  who  stands  Left  of  them.  PETER 
is  seated  on  the  work-table,  tailor  fashion,  sew- 
ing. 

CORINNE.  (As  the  curtain  rises)  Of  course,  you 
realize  that  the  whole  town  is  laughing". 

MRS.  STANLAW.  So,  you  see,  Mr.  Huber,  when 
we  read  the  extraordinary  story  in  the  paper  this 
morning,  we  came  directly  here  to  make  sure  it  was 
true. 

HUBER.  Yes,  Madam,  it's  the  truth,  but  I  don't 
know  anything  at  all  about  the  man. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Then  it  is  actually  true  that  he 
was  employed  here? 

HUBER.  Yes,  Madam,  I  am  sorry  to  say. 
(Pointing  to  the  work-table)  That  was  the  table 
where  he  worked — when  he  did  work. 

fCoRiNNE  goes  to  the  table.) 

PETER.    The  rest  of  the  time  he  was  talkin'. 

CORINNE.  (Laughing,  as  she  holds  up  a  pair  of 
trousers)  At  this  table!  So  this  is  the  thing  Na- 
poleon left  undone ! 

HUBER.     Yes,  and  now  think  what  a  terrible  scan- 
dal he  has  caused !    (To  MRS.  STANLAWJ    You  say 
you  have  seen  the  newspapers  ? 
106 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  107 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Coolly)  Yes, — glanced  at  them. 

HUBER.  Columns  and  columns !  The  whole  town 
is  talking!  The  telephone  has  been  ringing  since 
before  I  was  out  of  my  bed,  and  always  the  same 
question :  "Do  you  know  anything  about  John  Paul 
Bart?"  "And  how  should  I  know?"  I  ask  them. 
"You  can't  expect  me  to  keep  track  of  all  the  bad 
help  I  got  to  discharge." 

PETER.     I  should  say  not ! 

HUBER.  (Showing  MRS.  STANLAW  a  long  strip 
of  paper  covered  with  names  and  figures)  Look 
here,  lady!  Here's  a  list  of  the  people  I'm  to  notify 
if  I  hear  anything. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     (Coolly)    I  see! 

CORINNE.  Little  danger  of  hearing  anything 
about  John  Paul  Bart!  He's  probably  on  his  way 
to  South  America  by  this  time. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  Excellent  place  for  him!  He 
may  start  a  revolution. 

PETER.  I  always  said  he'd  have  a  nice  little  uni- 
form with  stripes  goin'  around  this  way. 

(MRS.  STANLAW  and  CORINNE  laugh  again  as  they 
start   toward   the   door) 

HUBER.  (In  German)  Shut  up!  (To  MRS. 
STANLAW,)  Permit  me,  Madam,  to  express  my 
sympathy  to  you. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Coldly  surprised)  Sympathy? 
What  do  you  mean? 

CORINNE.     Mother,  what  is  he  talking  abotrt? 

MRS.  STANLAW.    We  barely  knew  the  man. 

HUBER.     (Abashed)     I  see. 

CORINNE.     The  man  was  impossible! 

MRS.  STANLAW.    We  tolerated  him,  that's  all. 

HUBER.     (Humbly)    I  see. 


io8  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (With  cutting  coolness)  Is 
that  definitely  understood  ? 

HUBER.     Quite. 

MRS.  STANLAW.  (Turning  toward  door)  Come, 
Corinne. 

HUBER.  (Following  them  up  to  door)  Call 
again,  ladies. 

MRS.  STANLAW.     What? 

HUBER.  I  will  be  glad  to  show  you  anything  we 
got. 

(MRS.  STANLAW  and  CORINNE  exit  laughing.  HUBER 
closes  the  door  and  turns  to 


HUBER.  (Puzzled  by  their  amusement)  What  is 
there  funny  about  that? 

PETER.  Johnny  Paul  needs  a  muzzle,  he  does, 
a  muzzle! 

HUBER.     So  he  does,  Peter. 

PETER.  If  I  hadn't  kept  a  sharp  look-out  I 
would  have  been  corrupted  myself,  I  would,  workin' 
next  him  all  day. 

(SONNTAG  enters.) 

HUBER.     I  wouldn't  wonder. 

SONNTAG.     Good  morning,  Mr.  Huber. 

HUBER.     Good  morning,  Dr.  Sonntag. 

SONNTAG.     (Nodding  to  PETER)     Peter! 

PETER.  (Showing  SONNTAG  a  newspaper  he  has 
been  reading)  Dr.  Sonntag,  have  you  seen  this? 

SONNTAG.  (Glancing  at  the  paper)  Yes,  I've 
seen  it.  ^PETER  returns  to  his  work)  Look  here, 
Mr.  Huber,  where  is  Tanya? 

HUBER.     Why,  upstairs,  Doctor. 

SONNTAG.  Upstairs?  Did  she  tell  you  what  she 
was  doing  last  evening? 

HUBER.    Why,  no,  Doctor,  not  as  I  remember. 

SONNTAG.     I  see! 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  109 

HUBER.     Oh,  but  I  am  sure  it  was  nothing. 

SONNTAG.     Oh ! 

HUBER.  Why,  yes,  now  it  seems  to  me  she  was 
home  all  evening,  quiet  with  her  sewing  in  her 
room. 

SONNTAG.  In  her  room!  Well,  she  was  not  in 
her  room  when  she  was  paying  a  secret  visit  to 
John  Paul  Bart ! 

HUBER.     What  are  you  saying? 

SONNTAG.  I  found  them  together!  / — I  found 
them! 

HUBER.     That  is  not  true! 

SONNTAG.     Very  well,  ask  her! 

HUBER.  (Pause,  as  the  two  men  stand  eyeing 
each  other)  I  will !  Tanya !  Tanya ! 

TANYA.     (Offstage)    You  want  me,  Father? 

HUBER.     Come  down,  please! 

TANYA.     (Offstage)     Yes,  Father  dear. 

HUBER.  (As  he  moves  over  toward  SONNTAG,) 
Tanya  would  never  deceive  me  like  this !  Impos- 
sible! She  was  always  obedient  to  her  father. 
('HUBER  turns  and  sees  PETER,)  Go  to  your  work ! 

fPETER  exits  as  TANYA  enters.    She  goes  directly  to 
her  father.) 

TANYA.    You  wanted  me,  Father? 

HUBER.  Tanya,  Dr.  Sonntag  has  told  me  a  thing 
which  I  do  not  believe. 

SONNTAG.  And,  therefore,  I  wish  him  to  hear  it 
from  your  own  lips.  Kindly  tell  your  honorable 
father  where  it  was  I  found  you  last  evening. 

TANYA.  (Quietly)  You  found  me  with  Mr. 
Bart. 

HUBER.     (Staggered)    Tanya ! 

SONNTAG.  And  who  was  there  besides  you  two 
alone  ? 


I  io  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

TANYA.     (Quietly)     Nobody. 

SONNTAG.  (With  malignant  triumph)  There 
you  have  it  from  her  own  lips.  She  was  alone  with 
him. 

HUBER.     Tanya,  this  is  not  the  truth ! 

SONNTAG.  Yes,  it  is  the  truth.  For  a  long  time 
I  have  noticed  a  change  in  her.  I  knew  there  was 
something  wrong,  but  she  was  clever  and  I  never 
got  any  proofs  till  last  night.  But  no  matter !  Bet- 
ter last  night  than  some  night  after  I  had  married 
her. 

HUBER.  (Indignantly)  Dr.  Sonntag,  how  dare 
you  talk  that  way  in  the  presence  of  my  daughter? 

SONNTAG.     Your  daughter! 

HUBER.     (Thoroughly  roused)     Get  out ! 

SONNTAG.  Very  well,  I'm  done  with  her!  The 
next  time  the  joke  will  not  be  on  me !  (Exits) 

HUBER.  (Angrily)  Get  out!  And  don't  come 
back!  (Coming  close  to  TANYA )  Tanya,  there  is 
no  need  to  tell  me.  I  know  you  have  done  nothing 
to  be  ashamed  of  and  if  Dr.  Sonntag  can't  believe 
you  are  a  good  girl  I  am  glad  you  are  done  with  him, 
glad!  It  was  time!  But,  Tanya,  why  would  you 
disobey  your  father  ? 

TANYA.  Can't  you  see,  Father  dear?  Some 
things  are  so  much  more  important  than  obedience. 

HUBER.  That  is  not  true,  my  child.  A  thousand 
generations  behind  you  rise  up  and  tell  you  that  is 
not  true. 

TANYA.  What  is  behind  me  does  not  matter  any 
longer.  This  is  America.  I  look  forward — for- 
ward. 

HUBER.  (After  a  pause)  Tanya,  did  you  love 
Dr.  Sonntag?  (TANYA  shakes  her  head)  Is  there 
someone  else  ?  (TANYA  drops  her  head)  Who  is  it, 
my  child  ? 

TANYA.    It    doesn't    matter.      He    doesn't 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  in 

(She  quickly  exits  and  HUBER  stands  looking  sadly 
after  her.  JOHN  PAUL  enters  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  in  Act  I,  but  HUBER  does  not  see  him 
until  he  speaks.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Huber.  I  trust 
my  slight  tardiness  has  not  caused  you  any  incon- 
venience. I  was  unavoidably  detained. 

HUBER.  (Staring,  dumfounded)  Detained  !  For 
nine  months  !  You  walk  in  here  and  talk  as  if  you 
were  late  for  work  !  Are  you  dreaming  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Perhaps  —  I'm  not  sure.  It  seems 
like  a  dream. 


enters  from  the  work-room.  His  jaw  drops 
u'ith  astonishment  as  he  sees  JOHN  PAUL. 
After  greeting  him  with  a  casual  nod  and  the 
word  "PETER,"  JOHN  PAUL  takes  off  his  coat, 
rolls  up  his  sleeves,  and  goes  to  his  old  place  at 
the  work-table,  whistling,  "I  dreamt  I  dwelt  in 
marble  halls."  He  starts  working,  PETER  and 
HUBER  still  staring.) 

HUBER.  (Handing  PETER  the  telephone  slip) 
Telephone.  (PETER  exits  Left.  HUBER  turns  to 
JOHN  PAULJ  And  now,  John  Paul  Bart,  will  you 
have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning  of 
this? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Destiny  —  Mr.  Huber.  (Testing  the 
iron) 

HUBER.     What? 

JOHN  PAUL.  Yes,  it  picks  you  up  by  the  coat- 
tails,  whisks  you  off  among  the  clouds,  and  then  by 
and  by  back  you  come  again  !  Voila  ! 

HUBER.     That  damn  French  word  again] 

JOHN  PAUL.    Well,  now  you  see  what  it  means. 

HUBER.  So  you  imagine  you  can  work  here 
again  just  as  if  you  was  an  honest  man  !  You  ex- 


112  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

pect  me  to  look  over  that  you  are  a  thief  and  an  im- 
poster  and  a  rascal  and  a  scapegoat ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  don't  expect  anything,  Mr.  Huber, 
not  just  now.  I'm  holding-  my  mind  in  a  state  of 
crystalire  suspense — waiting. 

HUBER.  Then  it  may  interest  you  to  know  that 
Mrs.  Stanlaw  and  her  daughter  were  here  just  a  few 
minutes  ago. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Sincerely)  I'm  sorry  I  missed 
them. 

HUBER.  Sorry !  (Laughs  scornfully)  Well,  it's 
lucky  that  you  did ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Gathering  the  story  from  HUBERTS 
manner)  Oh,  I  see !  I  thought  so !  Still,  I  would 
have  liked  a  chance  to  offer  my  apologies. 

HUBER.  Apologies !  From  a  tailor !  (Laughing 
scornfully)  You're  funny ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Thoughtfully)  Yes,  it  would  have 
been  funny — I  dare  say — still —  (He  quits  his 
work  and  goes  toward  HUBER)  Now.  Mr.  Huber,  if 
you're  willing,  I  should  like  a  few  words  with  Miss 
Tanya. 

HUBER.  Yes,  it's  likely  I  would  let  you  speak  to 
my  daughter !  You,  the  man  who  has  caused  the 
ruin  of  my  hopes ! 

JOHN  PAUL.  Just  as  you  wish ;  I  can  wait.  (And 
he  turns  to  his  work) 

('PETER  re-enters.) 

PETER.     Well,  I  telephoned  them. 

HUBER.  Peter,  I  have  business  upstairs.  Stay 
here  and  keep  your  eye  on  that  man.  I  don't  pro- 
pose he  shall  get  away  with  another  armful  of 
clothes !  (Exits.) 

PETER.  (Who  sits,  folds  his  arms  and  faces 
BARTJ  So  this  is  what  it  comes  to! 

JOHN  PAUL.     Instructive,  isn't  it? 

f  ROWLANDS  enters.) 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  113 

ROWLANDS.  (Laughing)  Well,  well,  well,  back 
at  the  old  job  !  That's  the  one  solution  I  never  once 
figured  out.  Look  here,  young  man,  are  you  aware 
there's  a  mob  of  reporters  playing  Pinkerton  on 
your  trail  ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     I  thought  I  might  escape  them  here. 

ROWLANDS.  Well,  I'm  glad  I  found  you  ahead 
of  them,  for  it's  my  belief  that  something  might  be 
saved  out  of  the  wreckage. 

JOHN  PAUL.     You  think  so? 

ROWLANDS.  Yes,  sir,  I  think  there's  good  stuff 
in  you  —  somewhere. 

PETER.  May  be,  but  mixed  up  with  an  awful  lot 
of  rotten. 

ROWLANDS.  (Turning  to  PETER,)  What  do  you 
do  here? 

PETER.     I  work  here. 

ROWLANDS.  Work!  (Laughing)  Well,  keep 
right  at  it.  (Turning  to  JOHN  PAUL,)  Yes,  sir,  I 
believe  that  I  could  put  your  story  before  the  public 
in  such  a  way  that  they  might  change  their  attitude 
—  even  give  you  another  chance,  and  I  would  - 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Interrupting)  I  see!  You  wish 
to  do  an  illustrated  article  on  my  origin,  early  in- 
fluences, education,  home  life  - 

ROWLANDS.  (Interrupting)  That's  it,  exactly  ! 
Write  you  up.  Show  what  it  was  that  sent  you  off 
on  the  wrong  track.  Put  the  blame,  not  so  much  on 
you  as  on  your  unfortunate  environment 


points  to  PETER  and  ROWLANDS  laughs)  And  just 
to  show  you  how  fair  I  want  to  be,  I'm  going  to  pro- 
pose that  if  you'll  give  me  the  story  of  your  life  - 

('BOBBIE  WESTLAKE  enters.) 

WESTLAKE.     Is  Bart  here  ? 

PETER.     Yes  ;  there  he  is. 

WESTLAKE.     (Calling  to  MRS.  DUPUY  and  BES- 


U4  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

SIE,  who  are  outside)    It's  all  right,  Mrs.  Dupuy,  you 
can  come  in. 

(MRS.  DUPUY  and  BESSIE  enter.) 

MRS.   DUPUY.     Very  well,  just   for  a  moment. 

But,  Bessie  love,  stay  close  to  Mother.    Thank  you, 

Bobbie.    You  don't  mind  waiting-? 

WESTLAKE.     Oh,  dear  no,  not  at  all!    (Exits) 
ROWLANDS.     Well,  Mrs.  Dupuy,  you  see  I  got 

here  ahead  of  you. 

(BESSIE  goes  to  the  work-table.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Oh,  Mr.  Rowlands,  I'm  so  re- 
lieved. (As  he  starts  to  go)  Don't  go !  One  never 
knows  about  these  places. 

BESSIE.  (Watching  JOHN  PAUL  at  work)  Oh, 
Mother,  look  what  Mr.  Bart  is  doing !  He's  ironing 
some  pants ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Taking  BESSIE'S  arm  and  lead- 
ing her  away)  Trousers,  dear,  trousers !  And  don't 
look  any  more.  It  isn't  quite  nice  for  a  young  girl. 

BESSIE.     But  it's  so  funny! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  No,  it  isn't.  Mr.  Rowlands,  will 
you  amuse  my  little  Bessie  while  I  have  a  few  words 
with  this  person  ? 

(PETER  turns  his  chair  to  watch  the  group.) 

ROWLANDS.     Why,  with  pleasure ! 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Turning  toward  JOHN  PAUL  and 
bumping  into  PETER )  What  are  you  doing? 

PETER.     My  duty,  Madam. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Well,  do  your  duty  somewhere 
else.  Oh,  scat !  (PETER  slides  the  chair  to  the  desk. 
MRS.  DUPUY  turns  to  JOHN  PAULJ  Now,  young 
man,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  115 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Amiably)  I  wonder  if  I  can't  save 
you  the  trouble  of  saying  it.  You  wish  to  let  me 
know  you  have  found  it  advisable  to  give  up  the 
little  series  of  Lenten  Afternoons. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Furious  at  his  intimate  manner) 
Bessie,  child,  come  here ! 

BESSIE.     (Obeying)    What  is  it,  Mother? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  I  want  you  to  look  at  this  person 
very  carefully.  I  want  you  to  notice  that  peculiar, 
shifty  expression  about  the  eyes,  and  I  want  you  to 
remember  that  is  always  a  bad  sign  in  a  man.  Your 
father  had  it. 

fHuBER  enters  by  stairs.) 

HUBER.  I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies!  Mr.  Row- 
lands! Peter,  why  did  you  not  inform  me? 

PETER.     They  come  to  see  him. 

HUBER.  Go  to  your  work.  (  PETER  exits)  Is 
there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  Madam? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  No,  unless  you  can  explain  to  me 
why  you  employ  such  a  man  here. 

HUBER.  Ah,  Madam,  he  is  only  here  for  an 
emergency.  No,  indeed,  I  am  most  particular  about 
the  moral  character  of  my  assistants. 

MRS.  DUPUY.    That's  as  it  should  be. 

('GRAYSON  enters.) 

GRAYSON.  Are  you  the  proprietor  of  this  estab- 
lishment? 

HUBER.     Yes,  sir. 

GRAYSON.  Well,  I  came  to  find  out  about  John 
Paul  Bart. 

HUBER.     (Pointing  to  BART,)    There  he  is. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good  morning,  Grayson. 

GRAYSON.  (Looking  at  JOHN  PAUL  and  laugh- 
ing) Mr.  Nathan  is  outside  in  the  car.  He  wished 


n6  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

me  to  inquire (Laughing)  Good  Lord !  (Ex- 
its) 

MRS.  DUPUY.    Abraham  Nathan  coming  here ! 

HUBER.     Abraham  Nathan! 

ROWLANDS.  President  of  the  American  Oceanic 
Shipbuilding  Company ! 

BESSIE.     Mother ! 

ROWLANDS.  Well,  young  fellow,  you  have  stirred 
up  some  excitement. 

('NATHAN  enters,  followed  by  GRAYSON.) 

NATHAN.     Good  morning! 
MRS.  DUPUY.     Abram  Nathan! 

(GRAYSON  exits.) 

HUBER.  (Obsequiously,  as  he  goes  to  NATHAN,) 
Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  to-day,  sir? 

J^ATHAN.  Thank  you,  no.  There's  the  man  I 
came  to  see.  (Turning  toward  JOHN  PAUL.) 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good  morning. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (To  NATHAN)  Oh,  Abram,  I'm 
so  sorry !  I  can  imagine  how  terrible  all  this  must 
have  been  for  you. 

(JOHN  PAUL  sits  cross-legged  on  the  table.) 

HUBER.  And  I  wish  you  to  know,  Mr.  President, 
that  long  ago  I  would  have  exposed  this  imposter 
to  the  world  had  it  not  been  for  my  daughter's 
sake. 

NATHAN.  I  see.  Then  I  think  I  understand  the 
attitude  of  all  those  present  with  the  exception  of 
the  person  chiefly  involved.  (Turning  to  JOHN 
PAUL)  Young  man,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what 
you  mean  by  this  eccentric  behavior. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  117 

JOHN  PAUL.  It  isn't  eccentric,  it's  scientific.  I'm 
making  an  experiment. 

NATHAN.     Experiment? 

JOHN  PAUL.     With  Destiny. 

NATHAN.     I  don't  understand. 

JOHN  PAUL.  If  the  world  can  do  without  me, 
this  is  where  I  belong.  If  the  world  can't  do  without 
me,  it  must  take  me  from  here,  out  of  the  tailor  shop 
— goose  and  all. 

NATHAN.  I  see.  And  the  result  of  your  experi- 
ment? 

JOHN  PAUL.     The  main  result  hasn't  resulted  yet. 

NATHAN.    You  refer  to ? 

JOHN  PAUL.     Yourself. 

HUBER.  Permit  me  to  say,  Mr.  President,  that 
he  is  in  the  shop  against  my  will. 

NATHAN.     Are  you  going  to  keep  him? 

HUBER.  Keep  him!  After  what  has  happened! 
Not  very  likely ! 

NATHAN.  Then  if  he  is  willing  to  return  to  me 
I  will  be  delighted  to  restore  him  to  the  position  he 
was  holding  yesterday,  and  in  addition  will  appoint 
him  to  the  head  of  our  new  profit-sharing  depart- 
ment at  a  salary  of  $75,000  a  year. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Under  his  breath)    Jerusalem! 

(There  is  general  consternation.) 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Abram  Nathan !    Are  you  serious? 

NATHAN.  (Earnestly)  My  dear  Kitty,  not  one 
of  you  seems  to  have  realized  that  in  this  country 
a  man  is  valued  by  what  he  gets  to,  not  what  he 
started  from.  Look  at  our  biggest  Americans ;  the 
men  we  are  proudest  of.  How  did  they  start? 
One  began  as  a  messenger  boy.  Another  was  a 
waiter  in  a  restaurant.  Another  sold  papers  on  the 
street.  And  another,  the  biggest  of  them  all — you 
probably  have  never  heard  of  him,  Mr.  Huber, 


1 18  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

though  doubtless  you  have,  Mr.  Newspaper  Man — 
was  a  rail  splitter.  Here  is  a  young-  American  who 
began  in  a  tailor  shop,  and  unless  I  very  much  miss 
my  guess,  he's  going  to  be  numbered  in  that  same 
company. 

HUBER.  (Whose  attitude  has  completely 
changed)  Well,  it's  certain  John  Paul  was  always 
a  clever  young  man.  No  one  can  deny  that. 

NATHAN.  (Amused)  You  are  very  discerning, 
Mr.  Huber.  Now,  may  I  ask  for  a  few  minutes 
alone  with  him  ? 

HUBER.  Why,  certainly,  sir !  To  be  sure ! 
(And  he  bows  himself  off  and  upstairs) 

(JOHN  PAUL  gets  off  the  table  and  stands  beside  it.) 

ROWLANDS.  Mr.  Nathan,  I  take  off  my  hat  to 
you,  sir.  No  wonder  you're  a  big  man.  (Turning 
to  JOHN  PAULJ  Bart,  I'll  see  you  in  your  office 
to-morrow.  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Dupuy. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     Good-bye,  Mr.  Rowlands. 

ROWLANDS.     Good-bye,  Miss  Bessie.     (Exits) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (Going  to  NATHAN,  BESSIE  with 
her)  Of  course,  Abram,  if  you  look  at  it  that  way, 
I  know  you  must  be  right. 

NATHAN.  (Amused)  Thank  you,  Kitty.  You 
are  as  discerning  as  Mr.  Huber. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Yes,  but  watch  me  make  up  for 
it.  (Going  to  JOHN  PAUL  and  extending  her  hand) 
Mr.  Bart,  will  you  shake  hands  with  a  silly  old 
woman  ?  I  take  back  every  word  I  said. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Laughingly,  as  he  takes  her  hand 
in  both  his)  Including  the  shifty  eyes? 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Bessie,  dear,  it's  never  safe  to 
judge  a  man  by  the  eyes — eyes  are  changeable.  But 
look  at  that  brow !  Good-bye,  Mr.  Bart !  (As  she 
goes  to  the  door)  Bessie,  dear,  say  good-bye  te 
Mr.  Bart. 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  119 

BESSIE.     (Curtsies)     Good-bye. 

MRS.  DUPUY.     (Prompting  her)    Mr.  Bart. 

BESSIE.     Mr.  Bart. 

JOHN  PAUL.     Good-bye,  Miss  Bessie. 

MRS.  DUPUY.  Ask  Mr.  Bart  to  come  and  see 
us. 

BESSIE.  (To  JOHN  PAULJ  Will  you  come  to  see 
us? 

JOHN  PAUL.    Thank  you. 

BESSIE.  Thank  you.  (She  goes  to  the  door  and 
opens  it) 

MRS.  DUPUY.  (At  the  door)  And  there's  just 
one  thing  more,  Abram.  Whether  you  believe  it  or 
not,  I  think  you're  just  a  darling,  so  there !  Good- 
bye, Mr.  Bart.  Come,  Bessie.  (They  exit) 

NATHAN.  Bart,  the  Workingmen's  Council  have 
agreed  to  give  your  scheme  a  ten-months'  trial. 

JOHN  PAUL.     (Delighted)    They  have ! 

NATHAN.  On  condition  that  you  be  put  in  charge 
of  the  Committee  of  Readjustment.  Will  you  come 
back  to  us? 

JOHN  PAUL.     You  really  want  me ? 

NATHAN.  (Affectionately)  My  boy,  must  I 
say  it  again?  Yes,  I  want  you  more  than  I  can 
say.  Don't  desert  me  now. 

JOHN  PAUL.     You  bet  I  won't! 

NATHAN.  Good !  Good !  (In  a  business-like 
manner,  as  he  goes  up  to  door)  Your  office  is  wait- 
ing for  you  and  the  day's  mail  needs  to  be  attended 
to.  Half  a  day  off  is  enough  for  a  busy  man  like 
you.  (Starts  to  go,  then  turns  back)  Bart,  I 
don't  know  how  you've  done  it,  but  you  make  me 
feel  like  a  young  man  again.  I  tell  you,  that  be- 
tween us  we're  to  do  things  that  will  surprise  them. 
Yes,  sir !  You  watch !  (He  exits.) 

CHuBER  enters  by  stairs.) 


126  A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN 

HUBER.  You  will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Bart,  if  I  run 
out  for  a  few  minutes  ?  A  little  account  at  the  bank 
that  needs  adjustment.  (He  takes  off  his  apron  and 
puts  on  his  coat)  And,  Mr.  Bart,  I  was  going  to 
say — if  you  would  care  for  a  few  words  with 
Tanya ? 

JOHN  PAUL.    I  would,  very  much. 

HUBER.  She  was  just  coming  down  to  look  over 
her  books.  A  good  girl,  Mr.  Bart,  a  good  little 
daughter.  Perhaps  I  have  been  wrong  in  trying  to 
bring  her  up  too  much  by  the  old  rules.  I  dare  say 
there  is  something  to  be  said  for  the  American  way, 
after  all.  You  will  make  yourself  quite  at  home, 
Mr.  Bart?  Quite  at  home?  Yes,  sir — if  you 
please !  (And  he  bows  himself  off) 

(TANYA  enters.    She  is  deeply  startled  to  see  JOHN 
PAUL,  who  is  facing  her.) 

TANYA.  Oh,  I  didn't  know!  Nobody  told  me! 
(With  an  overmastering  impulse  of  sympathy)  Oh, 
John  Paul,  I'm  so  sorry !  It  was  all  my  fault. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (With  surprise,  as  he  tenderly  takes 
her  hands)  Your  fault?  Tanya,  don't  you  know 
what's  happened  ? 

TANYA.  Yes,  I  read  it  in  the  newspaper.  (Un- 
able to  hold  back  the  truth  any  longer)  But,  John 
Paul,  that  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me.  Noth- 
ing could  make  any  difference — ever. 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Still  holding  her  hands,  he  forces 
her  gently  into  a  chair  and  sits  beside  her)  Tanya, 
Mr.  Nathan  has  been  here.  (She  looks  startled,  but 
says  nothing)  He  asked  me  to  come  back  to  him. 
He  wants  to  set  me  at  a  bigger  job  than  any  I've  tried 
so  far. 

TANYA.  (Withdraztring  from  him  with  a  little 
pang  of  dismay)  Oh,  then  you're  going  back  ? 


A  TAILOR-MADE  MAN  121 

JOHN  PAUL.  (Gently  putting  his  arm  around 
her)  Yes,  back  into  the  big  world.  Will  you  go 
with  me? 

TANYA.  Go  with  you!  Oh,  but  I  can't!  I'm 
nobody,  and  you 

JOHN  PAUL.  But  I'm  nobody,  too.  That's  just 
why  we  ought  to  be  so  happy  together. 

(PETER  enters  with  an  armful  of  clothes.  As  he 
sees  TANYA  and  JOHN  PAUL  with  their  heads 
close  together,  he  throws  the  clothes  on  the 
table  and  moves  nearer  and  nearer,  listening.) 

JOHN  PAUL.  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  what  Mr. 
Nathan  said  about  that  just  now.  It's  not  what  a 
man  starts  from,  he  said,  it's  what  he  gets  to,  what 
he  does.  And  he  believes  there's  a  chance,  if  I  do 

my  best,  that  some  day Oh,  Tanya,  isn't  life 

the  most  wonderful  proposition?  With  so  much 
ahead,  always — so  many  big  things  waiting  to  be 
done !  And  a  chance  for  everybody !  Aren't  you 
happy?  Don't  you  think  it  will  be  splendid  to  see  it 
through  together?  You  know,  it  almost  seems  to 
me  I  can  actually  see  them  out  there — ahead — the  big 
jobs  waiting  for  someone  to  tackle  them 

CURTAIN 
END  OF  THE  PLAY 


DADDY  LONG-LEGS 

A  charming  comedy  in  4  acts.  By  Jean  Webster.  The 
fafl  east  calls  for  6  males,  7  females  and  6  orphans,  but 
tke  play,  by  the  easy  doubling  of  some  of  the  characters, 
raay  be  pletyed  by  4  ntales,  4  females  and  3  orphans, 
^fee  orpbaHs  appear  only  in  fehe  first  act  and  may  be  played 
by  siaall  girls  of  any  age.  Four  easy  interior  scenes. 
CwsfctMies  mocfemi.  Plays  2^4  hours. 

Many  rsaders  of  current  fiction  •will  recall  Jean  'Webster'* 
•"Daddy  Loagr-Lega."  MStss  Webster  dramatized  her  story  and  it 
tvas  presented  ait  tbe  G»ie*y  Tkeatre  in  Mew  York,  under  Henry 
MJHer's  direction,  with  Ruth  Chatterton  in  the  principal  role. 
"Daddy  Long-Legs"  ttHa  the  story  of  Judy,  a  pretty  little 
•drudge  in  a  Weak  New  England  oa^hanage.  One  day,  a  visiting 
trustee  becomes  interested  in  Judy  and  decides  to  give  her  » 
change.  She  does  not  know  tke  name  of  her  benefactor,  but 
Eiraply  eaHs  him  Daddy  Longr-I^ga,  and  'writes  him  letters  brim- 
ming- ov«r  with  fun  and  »ffi*«ti»n.  Prom  the  Foundling's  Home 
she  goes  to  a  fashionable  eolla#»  for  girls  and  there  develops  the 
romtrae*  that  constitutes  mn-oh  of  the  play's  eharm.  The  New 
York  Times  reviewer,  em  tfce  morning  after  tht  Broadway  pro- 
duction, wrote  the  following:  ''If  you  will  take  your  pencil  and 
write  down,  one  bolow  the  other,  the  words  delightful,  charming', 
Bweei,  beautiful  arvd  entertaining,  and  then  draw  a  line  and  add 
them  up,  tbe  aaswer  will  be  'Daddy  Long-Legs.'  To  that  result 
you  wiisht  even  add  brilliant,  pathetic  and  humorous,  but  the 
answer  even  then  wcmhl  be  jaat  what  it  was  before — the  play 
which  M>«s  Jean  Webster  has  made  from  her  book,  'Daddy  Long- 
Legs,'  and  which  was  presented  at  the  Gaiety  last  night.  Ta 
attempt  to  d escribe  the  sirnplioity  and  beauty  of  'Daddy  Long- 
Legs'  would  be  lik«  attempting  to  describe  the  first  breath  of 
8prmg  after  an  exceedingly  tiresome  and  hard  Winter."  "Daddy 
Juong-Le.gs"  enjoyed  a  two-years'  ran  in  New  York,  and  was  then 
toare-d  for  over  three  years.  It  is  now  published  in  play  form  for 
the  first  time.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

THE  FAMOUS   MRS.   FAIR 

A  cociedy  in  4  aeta.  By  James  Forbes,  3  males,  10 
females.  2  interiors.  Modern  eostumes.  Plays  a  full 
evening. 

An  absorbing  play  of  modern  American  family  life.  "The 
Famous  Mrs.  Fair"  is  concerned  with  a  strenuous  lady  who 
retnrns  frona  overseas  to  lecture,  and  consequently  neglects  her 
daughter,  who  Is  just  saved  in  time  from  disaster.  Acted  with 
great  success  by  Blanche  Bates  and  Henry  Miller.  (Royalty, 
twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  ?5  Cunts. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  23  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Out  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Request 


TWEEDLES 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Booth  Tarkington  and  Harry  Leon 
Wllaon.  5  males,  4  females.  1  interior.  Costumes,  modern, 
Plays  2%  hours. 

Julian,  scion  of  the  blue-blooded  Castleburys,  falls  in  love  -with 
Wiasora  Tweedle,  daughter  of  the  oldest  family  in  a  Maine  village. 
The  Tweedlss  esteem  the  name  because  it  has  been  rooted  in 
the  community  for  200  y«arc,  and  they  look  down  on  "summer 
people"  •with  the  vigor  that  only  "rammer  boarder"  communities 
know. 

The  Oastleburys  are  aghast  at  ike  possibility  of  a  match,  and 
cell  on  the  Tweedles  to  urge  how  impossible  such  an  alliance  would 
be.  Mr.  Castlebnry  laboriously  explains  the  barrier  of  soelal 
caste,  and  the  elder  Tweedle  takes  it  that  these  unimportant 
smmmer  folk  are  terrified  at  the  social  eminence  of  the  Tweedlas, 

Tweedle  generously  agrees  to  co-operate  with  the  Castleburys 
to  prevent  the  match.  But  Winsora  brings  her  father  to  realize 
that  in  reality  the  Castleburys  look  upon  them  as  inferiors.  The 
old  man  is  infuriated,  and  threatens  vengeance,  but  is  checkmated 
when  Julian  unearths  a  number  of  family  skeletons  and  argu.es 
that  father  isn't  a  Tweedle,  since  the  blood  has  been  so  diluted 
that  little  remains.  Also,  Winsora  takes  the  matter  into  her  4wn 
bands  and  outfaces  the  old  man.  So  the  youngsters  go  forth 
triumphant.  "Tweedles"  is  Booth  Tarkington  at  his  b«st. 
(Eoyalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents, 


JUST   SUPPOSE 

A  whimsical  comedy  in  3  acts,  by  A.  E.  Thomas,  author 
of  "Her  Hnuband's  Wife,"  "Gome  Ont  of  the  Kitchen, '» 
etc.  6  males,  2  females.  1  interior,  1  exterior.  Costumes, 
modern.  Flays  2*4  hours. 

It  was  rumored  that  during  his  last  VMH  the  Prince  of  Wales 
appeared  for  a  brief  spell  under  an  assumed  name  somewhere  is 
Virginia.  It  is  on  this  story  that  A.  £.  Thomas  baaed  "Just 
Suppose."  The  them*  is  handled  in  an  original  manner.  Linda 
Lea  Stafford  meets  one  George  Shipley  (in  reality  is  the  Prince 
of  Wales).  It  is  a  ca»e  of  love  at  first  sight,  but,  alas,  princes 
cannot  select  their  mates  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale  which  llr. 
Thomas  has  woven  with  infinite  charm.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
South  with  its  chivalry  dominates  the  story,  touching  in  its 
sentiment  and  lightened  here  and  there  with  delightful  comedy. 
"Jnst  Suppose"  scored  a  big  hit  at  the  Henry  Miller  Theatre, 
New  York,  with  Patricia  Oollinge.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH.  25  We*  43th  Street,  New  York  City 
Out  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Request 


POLLYANNA 

"The  glad  play,"  in  3  aets.  By  Catherine  Ghishokw 
C'usliing.  Based  on  the  novel  by  Eleanor  H.  Porter.  6 
males,  6  females.  2  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Play* 
8%  hours. 

The  story  has  to  do  with  the  experiences  of  an  orphan  girl 
who  is  thrust,  unwelcome,  into  the  home  of  a  maiden  aunt.  In 
•pite  of  the  tribulations  that  beset  her  life  she  manages  to  find 
something  to  be  glad  about,  and  bring!  light  into  sunless  live*. 
Finally,  Pollyanna  straightens  out  the  love  affairs  of  her  elders, 
»nd  last,  but  not  least,  finds  happiness  for  herself  in  the  heart 
of  Jimmy.  "Pollyanna"  is  a  glad  play  and  one  which  is  bound 
to  give  one  a  better  appreciation  of  people  and  the  world.  It 
reflects  the  humor,  tenderness  and  humanity  that  gave  the  story 
•uch  wonderful  popularity  among  young  and  old. 

Produced  at  the  Hudson  Theatre,  New  York,  and  for  two  sea- 
tons  on  tour,  by  George  C.  Tyler,  with  Helen  Hayes  in  the  part 
*f  "Pollyanna."  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cent*. 


THE   CHARM  SCHOOL 

'A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Alice  Duer  Miller  and  Robert 
Milton.  6  males,  10  females  (may  be  playei  by  5  males 
and  8  females).  Any  number  of  school  girla  may  be  used 
in  the  ensembles.  Scenes,  2  interiors.  Modern  costumes. 
Plays  2y%  hours. 

The  story  of  "The  Charm  School"  is  familiar  to  Mrs.  Miller'* 
readers.  It  relates  the  adventures  of  a  handsome  young  auto- 
mobile salesman,  scarcely  out  of  his  'teens,  who,  upon  inheriting 
ft  girls'  boarding-school  from  a  maiden  aunt,  insists  on  running  it 
himself,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  chief  of  which  is,  by  the 
Way,  that  the  dominant  feature  in  the  education  of  the  young 
girls  of  to-day  should  be  CHARM.  The  situations  that  arise  are 
teeming  with  humor — clean,  wholesome  humor.  In  the  end  the 
young  man  gives  up  the  school,  and  promises  to  wait  until  the 
most  precocious  of  his  pupils  reaches  a  marriageable  age.  The 
play  has  the  freshness  of  youth,  the  inspiration  of  an  extravagant 
but  novel  idea,  the  charm  of  originality,  and  the  promise  of  whole- 
some, sanely  amusing,  pleasant  entertainment.  We  strongly  rec- 
ommend it  for  high  school  production.  It  was  first  produced  at 
the  Bijou  Theatre,  New  York,  then  toured  the  country.  Two 
companies  are  now  playing  it  in  England.  (Royalty,  twenty-five 
dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45A  Street,  New  York  Ci«sr 
Our  New  Prescriptive  Catalogue  Sen:  Free  o'i 


KICK  IN 

"Play  in  4  acts.  By  Willard  Mack.  7  males,  5  female^ 
$  interiors.  Modern  costumes.  Plays  2^  hoars. 

"Kick  In"  is  the  latest  of  the  very  few  available  mystery 
plays.  Like  "Within  the  Law,"  "Seven  Keys  to  Baldpate,'* 
"The  Thirteenth  Chair,"  and  "In  the  Next  Room,"  it  is  ona 
of  those  thrillers  which  are  accurately  described  as  "not  having 
B  dall  moment  in  it  from  beginning  to  end."  It  is  a  play  with 
all  the  ingredients  of  popularity,  not  at  all  difficult  to  set  or  to 
act;  the  plot  carries  it  along,  and  the  situations  are  built  with 
that  skill  and  knowledge  of  the  theatre  for  which  Willard  Maek 
is  known.  An  ideal  mystery  melodrama,  for  high  school*  and 
colleges.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents, 


TILLY  OF   BLOOMSBURY 

("Happy-Go-Lucky.")  A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Ian 
Hay.  9  males,  7  females.  2  interior  scenes.  Modern 
dress.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

Into  an  aristocratic  family  comes  Tilly,  lovable  and  youthful, 
with  ideas  and  manners  which  greatly  upset  the  circle.  Tilly 
Is  so  frankly  honest  that  she  makes  no  secret  of  her  tra- 
mendous  affection  for  the  young  son  of  the  family ;  this  brings  her 
into  many  difficulties.  But  her  troubles  have  a  joyous  end  in 
charmingly  blended  scenes  of  sentiment  and  humor.  This  comedy 
presents  an  opportunity  for  fine  acting,  handsome  stage  settings, 
•nd  beautiful  costuming.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents, 


BILLY 

Farce-comedy  in  3  acts.  By  George  Cameron.  10  males, 
6  females.  (A  few  minor  male  parts  can  be  doubled,  mak- 
ing the  cast  7  males,  5  females.)  1  exterior.  Costumes^ 
modern.  Plays  2]/t  hours. 

The  action  of  the  play  takes  place  oa  the  S.  S.  "Florida," 
bound  for  Havana.  The  story  has  to  do  with  the  disappearance  of 
a  let  of  false  teeth,  which  creates  endless  complications  among 
passengers  and  erew,  and  furnishes  two  and  a  quarter  hours  of 
the  heartiest  laughter.  One  of  the  funniest  comedies  produced  in 
the  last  dozen  years  on  the  American  stage  is  "Billy"  (some- 
times called  "Billy's  Tombstones"),  in  which  the  late  Sidney 
Drew  achieved  a  hit  in  New  York  and  later  toured  the  country 
several  times.  '.Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  U* 
Our  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  S«at  Ftec  oa  Beoueat 


ON  THE  HIRING   LINE 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Harvey  O'Higgins  and  Harriet 
Ford.  5  males,  4  females.  Interior  throughout.  Costumes, 
modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

Sherman  Fessenden,  unable  io  induce  servants  to  remain  fop 
Bny  reasonable  length  of  time  at  his  home,  hits  upon  the  novel 
expedient  of  engaging  detectives  to  serve  as  domestics. 

His  second  wife,  an  actress,  weary  of  the  country  and  longing 
for  Broadway,  has  succeeded  in  discouraging  every  other  cook  and 
butler  against,  remaining  long  at  the  house,  believing  that  by  sv 
doing  she  will  win  her  husband  to  her  theory  that  country  life 
is  dead.  So  she  is  deeply  disappointed  when  she  finds  she  cannot 
discourage  the  new  servants. 

The  sleuths,  believing  they  had  been  called  to  report  on  the 
actions  of  those  living  with  the  Fessendens,  proceeded  to  warn 
ifr.  Fessenden  that  hie.  wife  has  been  receiving  love-notes  from 
Steve  Mark,  an  actor  friend,  and  that  his  daughter  has  bees 
planning  to  elope  with  a  thief. 

Ona  sleuth  causes  an  uproar  in  the  house,  making  a  mess  of 
the  situations  he  has  witnessed.  Mr.  Fessenden,  however,  has 
learned  a  lesson  and  is  quite  willing  to  leave  the  servant  problem 
te  his  wife  thereafter.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Pries,  75  Cent*. 


A  FULL  HOUSE 

'A.  farcical  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Fred  Jackson.  7  males, 
7  females.  One  interior  scene.  Modern  costumes.  Time, 
2%  hours. 

Imagine  a  reckless  and  wealthy  youth  who  writes  ardeut 
love  letters  to  a  designing  chorus  girl,  an  attorney  brother- 
in-law  who  fcteals  the  letters  and  then  gets  his  hand-bag  mixed 
up  with  the  grip  of  a  burglar  who  has  just  stolen  a  valuable 
necklace  from  the  mother  of  the  indiscreet  youth,  and  the 
efforts  of  the  crook  to  recover  his  plunder,  as  incidents  in 
the  story  of  a  play  in  which  the  swiftness  of  the  action 
never  halts  for  an  instant.  Not  only  are  the  situations  scream* 
ingly  fanny  but  the  lines  themselves  hold  a  fund  of  humor  at 
nil  times.  This  newest  and  cleverest  of  all  farces  was  written 
t>y  Fred  Jackson,  the  well-known  short-story  writer,  and  if 
backed  up  by  the  prestige  of  an  impressive  New  York  success; 
and  the  promise  of  unlimited  fun  presented  in  the  most  attrac- 
tive form.  A  cleaner,  cleverer  farce  has  not  been  seen  for  many 
•  long  day.  "A  Full  House"  is  a  house  full  of  laughs.  (Royalty, 
twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  76  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45  ih  Street,  New  York  City 
OlK  N«w  Descriptive  Catalogue  S*at  Free  on  Requeat 


ARE  YOU  A  MASON? 

Faroe  in  3  acts.  By  L«o  Ditriehstein.  7  males,  7  fe» 
males.  Modern  costumes.  Plays  2%  hours.  1  interior. 

"Are  You  a  Mason?"  is  one  of  those  delightful  fareec  lika 
"Ohartey's  Aunt"  that  aro  always  fresh.  "A  mother  and  a 
damghter,"  says  the  critic  of  the  New  York  Herald,  "had  h»i- 
b&nds  who  account  for  absences  from  the  joint  household  on 
freqaent  evenings,  falsely  pretending  to  be  Masons.  The  men 
do  not  know  each  other's  duplicity,  and  each  tells  his  wife  of 
hnring  advanced  to  leadership  in  his  lodge.  The  older  woman 
was  so  well  pleased  with  her  husband's  supposed  distinction  in 
the  order  that  she  made  him  promise  to  put  up  the  nan*  of  a 
visiting  friend  for  membership.  Further  perplexity  over  the 
principal  liar  arose  when  a  suitor  for  his  second  daughter's  hand 
proved  to  be  a  real  Mason.  ...  To  tell  the  story  of  the  play 
would  require  volumes,  its  complications  are  so  numerous.  It  is 
a  house  of  cards.  One  card  wrongly  placed  and  the  whole  thing 
would  collapse.  But  it  stands,  an  example  of  remarkable  in- 
gennity.  You  wonder  at  the  end  of  the  first  act  how  the  fun 
can  be  kept  up  on  such  a  slender  foundation.  But  it  continues 
and  grows  to  the  laet  curtain."  One  of  the  most  hilariously 
amusing  farces  ever  written,  especially  suited  to  schools  and 
Masonic  Lodges.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cent*. 


KEMPY 

A  delightful  comedy  in  3  aots.  By  J.  C.  Nugent  and 
Elliott  Nugent.  4  males,  4  females.  1  interior  throughout, 
Costumes,  modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

No  wonder  "Kempy"  has  been  such  a  tremendous  hit  in  New 
York,  Chicago — wherever  it  has  played.  It  snaps  with  wit  and 
humor  of  the  moat  delightful  kind.  It's  electric.  It's  small- 
town folk  perfectly  pictured.  Full  of  types  of  varied  sorts,  each 
one  done  to  a  torn  and  served  with  zestful  sauce.  An  ideal 
entertainment  for  amusement  purposes.  The  story  is  about  a  high- 
ialutin'  daughter  who  in  a  fit  of  pique  marries  the  young  plmnbw- 
arehiteet,  who  comes  to  fix  the  water  pipes,  just  because  ha 
"understands"  her,  having  read  her  book  and  having  SWOT*  to 
marry  the  authoress.  But  in  that  story  lies  all  the  humor  that 
kept  the  audience  laughing  every  second  of  every  aet.  Of  course 
there  are  lot*  of  ramifications,  each  of  which  bears  its  own  brand 
of  la«ghter -making  potentials.  But  the  plot  and  the  story  are 
not  the  main  things.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  work  of  the 
company.  The  fun  growing  out  of  this  family  mixup  is  lively  am;. 
etean.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  43th  Street,  New  York  City 
One  N«w  Descriptive  Catalogue  Seat  Free  on  Request 


NOT  SO  LONG  AGO 

Comedy  in  a  Prologue,  3  acts,  and  Epilogue.  By  Arthur 
Ricbman.  5  males,  7  females.  2  interiors,  1  exterior. 
Costumes,  1876.  Plays  a  fall  evening. 

Arthur  Riohman  has  constructed  his  play  around  the  Cinderella 
legend.  The  playwright  has  shown  great  wisdom  in  his  choice 
ef  material,  for  ha  has  cleverly  crossed  the  Cinderella  theme 
with  a  strain  of  Borneo  and  Juliet.  Mr.  Kichman  places  his 
young  lovers  in  the  picturesque  New  York  of  forty  years  ago. 
This  tim«  Cinderella  is  a  seamstress  in  the  home  of  a  social 
climber,  who  may  have  been  the  first  of  her  kind,  though  we 
doubt  it.  She  is  interested  sentimentally  in  the  son  of  this  house. 
Her  father,  learning  of  her  infatuation  for  the  young  man  without 
learning  also  that  it  is  imaginary  on  the  young  girl's  part,  starts 
out  to  discover  his  intentions.  He  is  a  poor  inventor.  The 
mother  of  the  youth,  ambitious  chiefly  for  her  children,  shud- 
ders at  the  thought  of  marriage  for  her  son  with  a  sewing-girl. 
But  the  Prince  contrives  to  put  tho  slipper  on  the  right  foot,  and 
the  end  is  happiness.  The  play  is  quaint  and  agreeable  and  the 
three  acts  are  rich  in  the  charm  of  love  and  youth.  (Royalty, 
twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cent*. 


THE  LOTTERY  MAN 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Eida  Johnson  Young.  4  males, 
6  females.  3  easy  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Plays 
2*4  hours. 

In  "The  Lottery  Man"  Rida  Johnson  Young  has  seized  upon 
ft  custom  of  some  newspapers  to  increase  their  circulation  by 
clever  schemes.  Mrs.  Youag  haa  mado  the  central  figure  in  her 
famous  comedy  a  newspaper  reporter,  Jack  Wright.  Wright  owes 
his  employer  money,  and  he  agrees  to  turn  in  one  of  the  most 
sensational  scoops  the  paper  ha*  ever  known.  His  idea  is  to 
conduct  a  lottery,  with  himself  as  the  prize.  The  lottery  is  an- 
nounced. Thousands  of  old  maids  buy  coupons.  Meantime  Wright 
falls  in  love  with  a  charming  girl.  Naturally  he  fears  that  he 
may  be  won  by  someone  else  and  starts  to  got  as  many  tickets 
as  his  limited  means  will  permit.  Finally  the  last  day  is  an- 
nounced. The  winning  number  is  1323,  and  is  held  by  Lizzie, 
an  old  maid,  in  the  household  of  tha  newspaper  owner.  Lizzie 
refuses  to  give  up.  It  is  discovered,  however,  that  she  has  stolen 
the  ticket.  With  this  clue,  the  reporter  threatens  her  with  arrest. 
Of  course  the  coupon  is  surrendered  and  Wright  gets  the  girl  of 
his  choice.  Produced  at  the  Bijou  Theater,  New  York,  with 
great  success.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents, 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  43th  Street,  New  York  City 
Out  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Requeet 


A    000  099  829    4 


ARE  YOU 


Farce  in  3   acts.     By  Leo  Ditriehstein.     7  males,  7 
males.     Modern  costumes.    Plays  2*4  hours.     1  interior. 

"Are  You  a  Mason?"  is  one  of  those  delightful  farces  like 
"Charley's  Aunt"  that  are  always  fresh.  "A  mother  and  a 
daughter,"  says  the  critic  of  the  New  York  Eerald,  "had  hus- 
bands who  account  for  absences  from  the  joint  household  on 
frequent  evenings,  falsely  pretending  to  he  Masons.  The  men 
do  not  know  each  other's  duplicity,  and  each  tells  his  wife  of 
having  advanced  to  leadership  in  his  lodge.  The  older  woman 
•was  so  well  pleased  with  her  husband's  supposed  distinction  in 
the  order  that  she  made  him  promise  to  put  up  the  name  of  a 
visiting  friend  for  membership.  Further  perplexity  over  tha 
principal  liar  arose  when  a  suitor  for  his  second  daughter's  hand 
proved  to  be  a  real  Mason.  ...  To  tell  the  story  of  the  play 
•would  require  volumes,  its  complications  are  so  numerous.  It  ia 
a  house  of  cards.  One  card  wrongly  placed  and  the  whole  thing 
would  collapse.  But  it  stands,  an  example  of  remarkable  in- 
genuity. You  wonder  at  the  end  of  the  first  act  how  the  fun 
can  be  kept  up  on  such  a  slender  foundation.  But  it  continues 
and  grows  to  the  last  curtain."  One  of  the  most  hilariously 
amusing  farces  ever  written,  especially  suited  to  schools  and 
Masonic  Lodges.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cent*, 


KEMPY 

&  delightful  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  J.  C.  Nugent  and 
Elliott  Nugent.  4  males,  4  females.  1  interior  throughout. 
Costumes,  modern.  Plays  2*£  hours. 

No  wonder  "Kempy"  has  been  such  a  tremendous  hit  in  New 
York,  Chicago — wherever  it  has  played.  It  snaps  with  wit  and 
humor  of  the  most  delightful  kind.  It's  electric.  It's  small- 
town folk  perfectly  pictured.  Full  of  types  of  varied  sorts,  ea«h 
one  done  to  a  turn  and  served  with  zestful  sauce.  An  ideal 
entertainment  for  amusement  purposes.  The  story  is  about  a  high- 
Xalutin'  daughter  who  in  a  fit  of  pique  marries  the  young  plumber- 
architect,  who  comes  to  fix  tha  water  pipes.  ,  -e  he 
"understands"  her,  having  read  her  book  and  having  sworn  to 
marry  the  authoress.  But  in  that  story  lies  all  the  humor  that 
kept  the -audience  laughing  every  second  of  every  act.  Of  course 
there  are  lots  of  ramifications,  each  of  which  bears  its  owu  brand 
®f  laughter-making  potentials.  But  the  plot  and  the  story  are 
not  the  main  things.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  work  of  the 
company.  The  fun  growing  out  of  this  family  mixup  is  lively  and 
clean.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75 


^  SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  Gey 
*"  Ocw  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  an 


Standard  Library  Edition 


George  M.  Cohan 
Augustus    Thomak 
Winchell  Smith 
William   Gillette 
Frank   Craven 
Owen  Davis 
Austin  Strong 
A.  A.  Milne 
Harriet    Ford 
Paul  Green 
James   Montgomery 
Edward    Child*    Carpentu 
Arthur    Richman 
Philip    Barry 
George  Middleton 
Channing   Pollock 
George  Kaufman 
Martin  Flavin 
Victor  Mapcs 
(ate  Douglas  Wiggin 
lida  Johnson  Young 
Margaret    Mayo 
toi  Cooper  Megrue 
'can  Webster 
ieorge    Broadhurst 
George  Hobart 
Frederick   S.    Isham 
Madeline  Lucette  Ryley 
Fred    Ballard 
Percy  MacKaye 
Willard   Mack 

itrome   K.    Jerome 
.  C.  Carton 
Mark    Swan 
Rachel    Crothers 
W.  W.  Jacobs 
Ernest  Denny 
Kenyon  Nicholson 
Aaron  Hoffman 
H.  V.  Esmond 
Edgar    Selwyn 
Laurence  Housman 
Israel  Zangwill 
Walter  Hackett 

E.  Thomas 
!  3dna  Ferber 

ustin  Huntley  McCarthy 

ohn   Henry   Mear* 

ohn  B.  Stapleton 
Frederick  Lonsdala 
Bryon   Ongley 
Rex  Beach 


Include*  Plays  by 

George  Ketry 
Booth    Tarkingteo 
George  Ade 


J.  C.  and  Bltiott  H 
.  Hartley  Manners 
Barry  Coaners 
Edith  Ellis 
Harold    Brighouse 
Harvey   J.    O'Higglne 
Clare  Kummer 
James  Forbes 
William  C.  DeMille 
Louis   N.    Parker 
Anthony   Hop* 
Lewis   Beach 
Guy  Boiton 
Edward  E.  Rose 
Marc    Connelly 
Frederick  Paulding 
Lynn  Starling 

Josephine  Preston  Peabody 
Catherine    Chisholm    Cushsng 
Clyde    Fitch 
Earl  Derr  Biggers 
Thomas   Broadhurst 
Charles  Klein 
Bayard  Veiller 
C.    Haddon    Chambers 
Richard   Haraing   Davis 
Cosmo  Gordon-Lennox 
Grace  L.  Furntu 
Martha   Morton 
Robert  Housum 
Carlisle  Moore 
Salisbury   Field 
Leo    Dietrichtstein 
Harry  James  Smith 
Eden    Phillpotts 
Sir   Arthur   Conan   Doyle 
Brandon  Tynan 
Clayton  Hamilton 
Edward  Sheldon 
Richard    Ganthony 
Jullie   Lippmao 
Paul  Dickey 
Frank   Bacon 
Thompson   Buchanan 
Edward    Paulton 
Adelaide    Matthews 
William  Gary  Duncan 
A.  E.  W.  Mason 
H.  A.  Du  Souchet 


Paul   Armstrong 

French's  International  Copyrighted  Edition  contains  pl*y«, 
comedies  and  farces  of  international  reputation;  also  recent 
professional  successes  by  famous  American  and  English 
Authors.  Our  new  descriptive  catalogue  sent  free  on  request. 

SAMUEL     FRENCH 

Oldest  Play  Publisher  in  the  World 
25  West  45th  Street,  NEW  YORK  CITY 


